Three's Company
by EmiEllie
Summary: "I don't regret kissing Rachel or the fact her lips tasted like raspberries." After Finn and Quinn reunite, Rachel, Puck and Sam form a friendship that's strong enough to see them through the darkest of their days. Rachel/Puck/Sam friendship. Puck/Rachel/Finn/Quinn/Sam pentagon. AU-ish from 2x13. Rated M for Finn and Puck's potty mouths.
1. Raspberry Chapstick

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee. No copyright infringement intended.**

**A/N: This is my first Glee fic, so I'm pretty nervous about posting, but I felt inspired to write an AU-ish version of the second half of season 2 with a focus on a blossoming friendship between Rachel, Puck and Sam. The Puck/Rachel/Finn/Quinn/Sam pentagon is important in this fic. The other glee clubbers, plus Kurt and Blaine, will also make frequent appearances.****  
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**This chapter is set around the time of 2x13 ('Comeback'). Puckleberry friendship ensues. Enjoy!**

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It had taken nearly two weeks for Quinn to recover sufficiently to return to school after her bout of mono. Finn had been back a few days - though he still couldn't sing - but today was the first day they had the full glee club back together.

The atmosphere was tense. Santana spent the entire time eyeing Sam, who in turn stared intently at Quinn whilst she tried her damnedest not to look at Finn, who was glancing quite conspicuously between Quinn and Rachel, the latter of whom was trying not to look directly at any of them. The rest of the New Directions followed Rachel's lead, choosing to focus on Mr Schue alone.

Only Puck acknowledged the ridiculousness of the entire situation, his head whipping back and forth between all five of them so frequently he thought he might end up with repetitive strain injury. It was a relief when the bell sounded, indicating that glee rehearsal was over for the day. Everyone rushed for the door. Apparently even Calculus, Physics and US History seemed appealing after that ordeal.

The only person who hung back for a second was Rachel. She wanted to talk to Mr Schue about Regionals. So Puck waited just outside the door, trying not to eavesdrop on their conversation.

"Hey," he greeted from behind her as she walked through the door and turned left to go to her next class.

She jumped a little, before turning round to face him. "Noah, you scared me," she said a little breathlessly.

"Uh, sorry. Can I walk with you to class?"

Rachel eyed him suspiciously. "I have Chem. You're not in that class."

She'd already started walking though, and Puck was following close behind.

"Uh, I know. I just... uh... wanted to talk to you."

"About?" she asked without looking at him.

"Finn." Rachel stopped in her tracks quite suddenly, her body going very stiff and her facial expression smoothing out into one of strained serenity. Puck knew that particular Rachel Berry face quite well. It was her _'I don't care even though I really do, but I'm not going to let you see it'_ face. "Have you spoken to him?"

"Not since Valentine's Day," she answered bluntly.

"Do you believe that Quinn saved his life?"

Rachel looked at him then, eyebrows raised and a side-smirk that had_ 'are you kidding me?'_ written all over it. "No."

"Why not?" Puck asked, though the answer was pretty obvious. Rachel was many things: ambitious, freakishly organised, her own brand of bat-shit crazy, and even totally smokin' hot (in a sexy librarian-school girl kinda way). But if there was one thing Rachel Berry had never been, it was stupid.

"Firstly, because I know for a fact that Finn doesn't like gumballs," she answered nonetheless and Puck returned her eyebrow-raised-side-smirk face with one of his own, that was clearly meant to say:_ 'really? That's the reason you don't believe it?'_

"And because Finn told me he kissed Quinn."

"_Wh-what? When?_" Puck sputtered out.

Rachel shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know. A couple of weeks ago."

"Why would he do that?" Puck was really confused. Why would Finn tell Rachel he'd kissed Quinn? Why was Rachel not calling bullshit on the whole _'Quinn saved my life'_ story? No one believed it anyway - except for Brittany and maybe Sam - but still...

"Probably because I asked him," Rachel replied obviously. "Look, Noah, as much as I would_ love _to spend the rest of my afternoon discussing my ex-boyfriend's love life with you," she started sarcastically (with just a tinge of bitterness), "I have to get to class."

"Yeah, right. I have basketball anyways."

Puck turned round and started walking in the opposite direction when a thought occurred to him. "Hey, Rach?" She glanced questioningly at him over her shoulder. "Maybe we could work on another duet together? _Need You Now _was actually pretty dope."

Rachel smiled. She knew what Puck was doing and somehow it made her feel better. "Yeah, sure."

* * *

By the time Puck made it to the locker room, it was pretty quiet. He was ten minutes late and everyone was already in the gym. Well, almost everyone.

Puck looked across the locker room to where Finn was sitting, tying his laces. He must have made eye contact for a little bit longer than socially appropriate, and Finn must have noticed him staring, because he shifted uncomfortably before muttering "uh, hey."

The two of them hadn't really spoken that much since Rachel admitted to Finn that she'd kissed Puck. They'd called a truce during the football match and Puck had agreed to give Karofsky and the other guys some B.S. pep talk on unity and crap, before Finn proceeded to take all the credit for winning the championship and use his return to popularity as an opportunity to start macking on one of his teammates' girlfriends. Where the fuck is the _unity_ in that?_  
_

"You know, Finn, what you're doing is pretty shitty." The words sort of just slipped out of Puck's mouth before he had the chance to think about what he was saying. "I mean, I've been a shit friend to you, and there probably aren't even enough words in the English language for me to be able to apologise for the things I've done... But I kinda always thought you were better than me."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Finn muttered defensively. But even Finn wasn't that clueless, and he certainly wasn't that callous.

"I know you kissed Quinn. And so does everybody else. Even Sam. He just doesn't want to admit it to himself yet because, when he does, he'll have to break up with her."

Finn wasn't really looking at Puck. He was just quietly seething and looking down at his feet. Puck had been friends with him long enough to know Finn had three different types of anger. Firstly, there was the_ 'you've really done something effed up and I hate you'_ anger, which typically involved punching, pointing and shouting. Puck had been on the receiving end of that one last year, after he was revealed to be the father of Quinn's then unborn child. Secondly, there was the irrationally-jealous-boyfriend type anger, which involved bouts of silent fury followed by uncontrollable outbursts, a la the_ Run Joey Run_ incident. And then there was the type of anger he was seeing right now: the _'I've been a jerk and I feel guilty but I'm too stubborn to admit it, so I'm just going to bottle it all up until it can no longer be contained and I let all this rage out on anyone who's standing too close'_ anger.

Puck had a sneaking suspicion that he was going to be the one who was standing too close this time. "You couldn't forgive Quinn for cheating on you, and you couldn't forgive Rachel either._ Fine! _But don't do the same thing to Sam as I did to you... because, take it from me, you'll regret it," he pushed on regardless. At least if Finn lost his cool on him, there'd be a chance Puck could cover it up to protect him from getting suspended.

"_Really?_" Finn finally snapped, taking a few quick strides towards Puck. He bowed his head slightly, their faces close enough that Puck could tell Finn had eaten a cheeseburger for lunch. "You _really_ feel guilty about what you did with Rachel? Because it didn't seem that way when you were _waiting for her_ outside the choir room and offering to_ walk her to class_."

"Are you screwing with me? Like, seriously, dude. You gonna stop me from _talking_ to her now?"

"You said - before the football game - that _nothing _like that would ever happen again."

"I said I wouldn't sing romantic duets with Rachel," (yes, he did realise he actually _had_ broken that promise by asking Rachel to work on another duet with him not ten minutes ago, but Finn didn't know that, so...) "but I _can't stop talking to her_ completely and, to be honest, I don't _want_ to."

"I knew it. I _fucking knew_ it," Finn shouted, slamming Puck into the lockers. Finn's fist collided with the metal just to the right of Puck's face, leaving a large dent. "You're not sorry at all... you'd do it again."

Puck's eyes became wide with shock. He wasn't really following anymore. "I _don't have a fucking clue_ what you're getting at," he admitted.

"_You're not sorry_ for kissing her. I know you're not, because I'm not sorry I kissed Quinn."

For whatever reason, Puck's patience finally snapped. He was fed up of playing defense because, quite frankly, he was always much stronger on the attack. And since nothing else seemed to be getting through Finn's thick skull, Puck rose to the bait.

"You know what, Finn? You're _right_. I'm not sorry. I don't regret singing that duet with Rachel or that we sounded_ fucking epic_ whilst doing it. I don't even regret kissing her or the fact that her lips tasted like raspberries because it was a Wednesday and she _always_ wears raspberry chapstick on Wednesdays."

He knew including that last little detail was probably a bit too much - since only a boyfriend should know that Rachel Berry had a different berry-flavoured chapstick for each day of the week (apart from on Saturday, when she'd break the trend by wearing peach chapstick because "Saturdays are for fun and spontaneity," she'd say, not quite understanding why _planning_ which chapstick to wear might therefore be considered ironic) - and it was confirmed when Finn's fist came flying towards his face and hit him square in the jaw.

Puck braced his hands on Finn's chest, shoving the taller, heavier boy with all his strength. Finn's legs hit the adjacent bench and he went tumbling backwards over it, Puck following close behind as he dived on top of him.

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON IN HERE?" Coach Beiste roared at the two boys, as she came stomping into the locker room. Even though they'd come to know their coach's softer side in recent months, it didn't mean she was any less terrifying when angry. Puck and Finn froze in the middle of the floor, simply staring at her like deer caught in the headlights.

* * *

"Coach Beiste has a zero tolerance policy on violence," Principle Figgins half-shouted, though his lecture wasn't particularly intimidating.

Puck and Finn sat in the plush leather armchairs on the opposite side of Figgins's desk. Coach Beiste and Mr Schuester were sitting off to the sides, waiting expectantly for some sort of explanation as to why they's gone all _Fight Club _in the locker room.

"You two used to be best friends," Mr Schue started. "What happened?"

"I knocked up his girlfriend," Puck stated matter-of-factly, looking straight ahead at Principle Figgins.

"Then he kissed my other girlfriend," Finn added, shooting daggers in Puck's direction.

"So this is all over a couple girls?" Coach Beiste asked, exasperated.

"I tell you what, Puck," Mr Schue started, "why don't you apologise to Finn? Then you two can shake hands and put this behind you."

"I'm not apologising to him," Puck objected, looking first at Finn, then at his teacher, a defiant look on his face.

"Why not, Puck?" Mr Schue pressed.

"Because I already said I was sorry and he wouldn't accept it... and because he's a dick."

The five of them started talking over one another then, the adults in the room expressing various degrees of disapproval at Puck's terminology, and Finn simply retorting "you're the dick."

"Hey, calm down," Mr Shchue interjected again. "Puck, you obviously feel that Finn has things to apologise for as well. Maybe you should explain to him what he's done wrong."

Puck thought the whole 'conflict resolution' exercise was pointless and that Mr Schue should stick to singing show tunes. He'd obviously been spending too much time with Ms. Pillsbury and had developed the misguided notion that they'd all leave this room and spend the weekend together dancing round a camp fire, singing _Kum Ba Yah_.

Nonetheless, he needed to keep this incident from getting back to his parole officer, else he'd end up booted back to the juvenile detention center. "The way he's treating Sam isn't cool," Puck admitted reluctantly. "And the way he's treated Rachel is _even less cool_. I just think you owe her and apology, that's all," he added, reluctantly facing to address Finn.

"For what? We broke up because she cheated on me... _with you!_"

"If you think _that _is the reason you broke up, you're never going to understand," Puck muttered and shook his head. "You kept a secret - about something that was important to her - and, when that secret came out, you didn't do enough to try and repair it or stick up for her when everyone else turned on her. She only kissed me to hurt you as much as you hurt her. The fact that a self-proclaimed womaniser and insensitive asshole such as myself is more astute to the real reason your relationship imploded so catastrophically is pretty embarrassing. Even if you can't forgive her for cheating - which _makes no sense_, since you've apparently forgiven Quinn for doing much worse - you should at least let her know you're sorry for not always doing right by her."

The room fell silent for a few long moments. Apparently Noah Puckerman's profound speech had caught them unawares. Coach Beiste hadn't thought him capable of stringing a proper sentence together, much less an entire monologue expressing compassion towards someone else's situation.

"Look, I've apologised for cheating with your girlfriends, and I'm sorry for antagonising you in the locker room today," he said to Finn. " And I'm sorry, Coach Beiste, for the dent in the locker that was created when Finn missed my face. But please can we just call it even now that I've been sucker punched like three times? And can I then leave because that speech was so unmanly I think I might have just grown a vagina? It's embarrassing."

Mr Schue smiled wanly and nodded towards the door to let Puck know he was dismissed. He left the room without saying another word to anyone.

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**Thanks for reading. I would really appreciate reviews to let me know if you enjoyed it and whether I should carry on :-)**

**xox**


	2. Worst Theme Ever

**Disclaimer: I still don't own Glee.**

* * *

There was only a few minutes left before glee practice was due to start and not everyone was gathered in the choir room yet. Noteworthy absentees included Finn, Puck, Quinn and Mr Schue.

Everyone else was sat around, talking about their weekends, when Puck came sauntering into the room, taking a seat in between Sam and Zizes. Sam started to protest that he'd been saving that seat for Quinn, but Zizes cut him off with a sharp, "shut it, Bieber Experience."

It was then that Mike noticed the large purple bruise on the left side of Puck's face. "Hey, what happened there?" he asked curiously, nodding towards it.

Apparently word of his and Finn's _Rumble in the Jungle_ hadn't yet made it round school. "Frankenteen happened," Puck answered disinterestedly, not really wanting to expand further.

"Why? I thought he'd forgiven you for the whole _Rachel thing_?"

By this point, everyone in glee club had swarmed round to find out the juicy details, with the exception of Rachel who was sitting at the piano with Brad, furiously flipping through sheet music.

"Apparently not," Puck answered bitterly. He couldn't understand why no one other than Berry and Zizes seemed to be picking up on the _'I don't want to talk about it'_ vibes he was radiating.

"Well, at least that's good news for you, right Rachel?" Tina chirped optimistically.

Registering that someone has said her name, Rachel looked towards the group huddled on the other side of the choir room. She simply stared at Tina, wearing an expression that said _'I don't have a clue what you're talking about' _because, well... why the hell would Puckerman getting punched in the face be considered 'good news' for her?

"'Cause, you know, it probably means Finn's still into you," Tina added, realising that Rachel hadn't connected the dots.

Rachel returned her attention to sifting through the pile of paper in front of her, muttering under her breath so that no one could hear, "I wouldn't count on it."

"Wouldn't count on what?" The sugary sweet voice came from over her shoulder. She turned round to see Quinn standing not five metres away from her, with Finn in tow (how Sam hadn't cottoned on to their illicit relationship, at this point, was beyond ridiculous).

"Us winning Regionals with any of these so-called anthems," she improvised, flourishing a wad of papers in front of her face.

The rest of the group seemed just as uncomfortable as they started to shuffle back to their seats, obviously not wanting Finn and Quinn to know what they were talking about. Except for Santana, who didn't seem to care. "So, how's your hand, man boobs?" she asked as soon as he sat down next to her. Mercedes turned round to tell her to shut up. "_What_? I'm just keeping it real," she responded.

Luckily, Mr Schue walked through the door at that moment, cutting off any further discussion on the matter. Quinn pulled up a chair to where Sam was sitting so that she could continue acting the role of the dutiful girlfriend.

"The theme for this week is..." Mr Schue paused so that the guy on drums, whose name nobody knew, could give a drum roll. "... Sorry!"

Everyone in the room sighed emphatically. _Worst. Theme. Ever. _

With only three weeks until Regionals, something with a little more sparkle and optimism wouldn't have gone amiss. You know, because _nothing_ screams 'team spirit' like songs about how shitty they've all treated one another. _  
_

"Mr Schue, with all due respect, this theme is a little like that time you suggested incorporating hairography into our Sectionals performance... well intentioned, but ultimately misguided." Unsurprisingly, Rachel was the first to voice her opinion.

"I have to agree with Berry, Mr Schue," Lauren added. "When people say they're sorry, they rarely mean it. I mean, Santana could apologise for making jokes about Sam's enormous gob... It doesn't mean she's not going to spend the rest of this lesson imagining how many chicken wings he could fit in there."

"A lot.." Santana sighed wistfully, gazing at Sam's mouth as he self-consciously raised his hand to cover it.

"_Come on_, some of you must have things you feel guilty about?" Mr Schue pressed, disheartened by his students' resistance.

"Not me. I calls 'em like I sees 'em. _Sorry _if you guys can't handle it," Santana said remorselessly.

"I make my apologies in a confessional," Quinn added.

Most of the members of the glee club maintained a somewhat awkward silence. Tina rolled her eyes, Zizes coughed sardonically, and Artie started muttering something under his breath, but Mercedes slapped him lightly in the chest.

Only Santana said what everyone else was thinking. "Oh please, as if you don't have _plenty_ to say sorry for."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Quinn should have just let the comment slide and everybody else knew it. Even Finn was shuffling uncomfortably in his seat.

"It means that _everybody knows_ you're cheating on your boyfriend with Pudding Nips over here," Santana said, nodding in Finn's direction.

"Hey," Sam interjected, "Quinn explained to me what happened and I believe her."

Santana laughed hollowly. "Then maybe I should stop calling you Trouty Mouth and start calling you Trouty Brain, because even Britt wouldn't believe that gumball story."

Everybody was staring at Santana, who had apparently woken up with an appetite for destruction.

"That's enough, Santana," Mr Schue finally managed to cut in. "Let's just get back to the task at hand."

But nobody was paying attention anymore. Rachel was just looking at the piano keys in front of her and playing scales in her imagination. Brittany was attempting to braid a pompom into Mercedes's weave. Everybody else was staring at Sam, who was now glancing back and forth between Quinn and Finn.

Eventually his eyes settled on the beautiful blonde girl beside him. "Look me in the eye and tell me you didn't kiss him," he implored under his breath (though everyone in the room could still hear). His eyes - full of vulnerability and desperation - were starting to water. But Quinn couldn't bring herself to look at him; she simply bowed her head to focus on her hands, tightly clasped in her lap.

"I- I-" she started to mumble, her face awash with shame. He couldn't deny it to himself any longer; the truth was written all over her face. She grabbed his hand as he started to raise from his chair. "I can explain," she pleaded with him.

"That's okay. I think I've heard enough," he said coldly, pulling his hand from her grip and heading towards the door.

No one said anything for about thirty seconds. They all just stared down at the ground or their hands. Quinn kept her eyes trained on the door, a forlorn expression marring her pretty features and mascara-stained tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Are you satisfied now?" Quinn finally turned to ask Santana, choking back tears.

She didn't look satisfied at all. If anything, she looked a little remorseful.

Finn sat in silence beside Santana, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth.

"Maybe I should go find him," Mike Chang suggested, breaking through the incredibly tense atmosphere.

As he was heading towards the door, Rachel rose from her seat at the piano to grab his arm and squeeze it. "Let me?" she said softly, before turning away from Mike and walking out the door without another word to her fellow glee clubbers.

* * *

"Hey," Rachel greeted Sam tentatively when she found him on the bleachers. She'd been looking for him for a while, not knowing where he'd be likely to go when he was upset. She'd even ventured into the boys' locker room for the second time in her high school career, only to be reminded once again that it smelt like feet in there.

"Why are you here, Rachel?" He sounded more bitter than intended.

"I just wanted make sure..." She didn't bother finishing the sentence because she knew he wasn't okay.

"I'm humiliated," he told her honestly. "I can't believe I fell for her lies."

Rachel took a seat beside him, but didn't touch him. "I can. You wanted to be with her so much, you probably would have believed anything she told you."

The note in her voice wasn't condescending or judgmental. He smiled weakly at her to show he appreciated her understanding.

"And you shouldn't feel humiliated either," she added after a short pause. "You know, last year, I dated this guy called Jesse. He was a senior at Karmel at the time and the lead of Vocal Adrenaline. And no matter how many times everyone in New Directions told me he was using me to scope out the competition, I wouldn't listen. I was_ absolutely convinced_ that he loved me. A week before Regionals he texted me, telling me to meet him in the parking lot. When I got there, Jesse and his Vocal Adrenaline friends jumped out and started throwing eggs at me. I had never been so embarrassed in my life."

"I'm sorry," Sam said softly.

"Don't be. I'm not. I spent so much time thinking he was the most awesome person ever, and that I was lucky to have someone like him even look twice at me, but then I realised... I'm _way_ too good for him."

Sam couldn't help but laugh at her self-belief, given how sorely lacking in it he felt himself to be at that moment.

"You know, Rachel... you're pretty cool."

"Oh, thanks, but I'm not. I'm not popular like Brittany, or pretty like Quinn. But that's okay..." She wasn't fishing for compliments because she'd actually grown comfortable with her position at the bottom of the social pyramid. It was weirdly comforting to know that she hadn't peaked in high school.

"Maybe not. But you're confident, and strong-willed. That's cool," he said honestly, smiling much wider now. Contrary to Santana's many snide comments about the size of Sam's mouth, Rachel found his smile (and, well, his face in general) to be very cute. "...And I think you're pretty," he added nervously.

Rachel started blushing a little. Boys never really said she was 'cool' or 'pretty'. Except for Finn.

"Well, thanks. You're pretty cool too, but I guess you already know that."

"Not cool enough to keep Quinn, apparently. I guess she thinks dating the Quarterback is going to put her back on top."

"I don't think this thing with Quinn and Finn is about labels or popularity. The way their relationship ended last year..." Rachel shook her head gravely at the memory of Finn shouting and tackling Puck to the floor. "It was pretty messed up. There's probably just a lot of unresolved feelings there."

They fell into a comfortable silence once again and Sam thought about what he was going to do next. "I'm not sure I want to be around to watch them _resolve_ their feelings," he admitted after a couple minutes.

It took Rachel a few seconds of looking at the downcast expression on his face, blue eyes filled with unshed tears, to understand what he was saying. "No, please don't quit glee club," she begged him, grabbing his hand and holding it in her own. "I know it won't be easy seeing them together and stuff, but... Would quitting really make you feel any better?"

Sam just shrugged.

"You love the music, right?"

"Yeah, I guess," he answered honestly.

"Then stay. We need you. And, I think you probably need us too."

"I'll think about it," he said, pulling his hand out of hers and standing to leave.

Rachel watched as the tall, blond boy retreated in the distance. She just sat there, hoping she'd said enough to make him stay.

* * *

**Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed, followed and favourited the last chapter. To the guest reviewer that loves Finn, I will put your mind at ease by saying that I also love Finn... so he isn't going to be a total jerk :).**

**Please, please continue to give me your thoughts on this story. More feedback = quicker updates! xox**


	3. Sour Patch Kids

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.**

**This is my favourite chapter so far, so I hope you enjoy it :).**

* * *

Sam blew off basketball practice that afternoon. He was afraid he might end up losing his temper and turning it into a contact sport. And as much as he would have enjoyed giving Finn's face a tattoo of his fist, sitting it out seemed like the smarter alternative.

Quinn found him lifting weights in the locker room the next morning before school started. He often used exercise to blow off steam when he was upset or angry.

"I thought I might find you in here," she said in her soft, velvety voice, without making any movement towards him.

"What do you want, Quinn?" He remained cool and calm, not even turning to look in her direction.

"I'm so sorry, Sam." Her voice was a low whisper, nearly breaking with every syllable. "I'm sorry I kissed him... And for _how_ you found out. I should have told you the truth."

"No. You shouldn't have kissed him in the first place."

"You're right. It was a mistake, Sam. A_ really stupid_ mistake." Tears were streaming down her face. "Please, please, just look at me," she begged as she walked over to him and timidly placed a hand on his bare shoulder. "Haven't you ever made a mistake?" she managed to choke out between sobs.

He swallowed down the lump in his throat to ask a question he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer. "What did it feel like?"

"Wh-what?"

"When you kissed Finn, what did it feel like?"

"Sam..." She already felt guilty enough for the kiss. It just seemed cruel to recount the intimate details to him as well.

"Please, just answer the question."

"It felt like everything was in its right place again, like all that stuff from last year never happened." Quinn couldn't even bear to look at his face in that moment. He looked so broken, like someone had told him he had only days to live, or something equally horrific. She hated that she was capable of causing someone so much pain.

The worst part was that Sam didn't even seem angry. She would have felt better if he'd just shouted at her, or kicked a chair, or something. But he was just sitting there in complete silence, his face now buried in his palms.

He stayed like that for what seemed like an eternity. Quinn rubbed his arm in an attempt to soothe him, but he shrugged away from her touch.

His eyes were bloodshot when he finally looked up at her. "Then how can you stand there and tell me it was a mistake? If it felt so_ right_?"

"Because it felt_ wrong_ for it to feel right," she said earnestly, another salty tear dripping down her face. Her answer made sense in her head, but she knew Sam wouldn't be able to understand it. Finn had already told her that she'd have to make a choice eventually, that she couldn't possibly love both of them completely. But the answer wasn't any clearer now than it had been on Valentine's Day. If anything, she was more conflicted than ever.

Sam was perfect for her. Sure, his impersonations were kind of dorky and he wasn't the brightest... but he was still a good guy. He made her feel secure, he never judged her for her past mistakes, and she didn't feel the pressures of popularity or labels when she was with him.

But her relationship with Finn just felt so _unfinished_. She knew she'd never be able to give herself completely, to Sam or to anyone else, until she tied up all those loose ends.

"Please, just give me some time to figure things out," she pleaded, squeezing his arm again. If he could just be patient for a little while longer, maybe she'd be able resolve things with Finn and be back together with Sam in time for Junior Prom.

"Take all the time you need," he said impassively. "I'm done."

Sam stood up and walked out of the locker room before Quinn even had chance to utter a word in response. She stood there silent and frozen, completely immobilised by pain, for what felt like an eternity.

* * *

The rest of Sam's day was uneventful. He avoided Quinn and Finn like the plague, which was relatively easy since he had no classes with either of them on Tuesdays and Mr Schuester had decided to cancel glee rehearsal. He claimed that it was due to a 'schedule conflict', but Sam suspected it was because he wanted to avoid more mudslinging and storm-outs.

At the end of the day, he arrived at his car to find Puck leaning casually against the bonnet. He was messing around on his phone and smirking wickedly, probably sending naughty text messages to Zizes, Sam thought. He cleared his throat loudly to make Puck aware of his presence.

"Ah, Sam Evans... Just the guy I was waiting for," he said, shoving his phone into his jean pockets.

"Yeah, I got that when I saw you leaning against my car. What do you want?"

He didn't mean to sound rude, he just didn't want to be hanging around outside school. It was the first day of March and the air was still pretty cold. Plus, Finn's truck was still in the parking lot and he wanted to get out of there to avoid bumping into him.

"I just want to have a chat... y'know, bro to bro."

"I didn't realise we _were_ bros."

"Of course we are," Puck answered obviously. "Look, I'm gonna get to the point so you can go back to running away from Quinn or Finn or whoever, like a little baby girl."

"I'm not running away from anyone," Sam cut in defensively.

"Oh really? Because if you let that Pastry Bag Finn run you out of glee club, that's how it's going to look. So why don't you retrieve your testicles from your glove compartment, or wherever it is you left them, and go show Quinn Fabray what she's missing?"

"Why are you being such a dick to me, man?"

"I'm not being a dick. It's called tough love. And, right now, you need some."

Despite the fact that Sam had technically been his replacement - _a less bad ass replacement_, he might add - when he'd been shipped off to the juvenile detention centre, Puck was actually pretty determined to keep him in glee club. They needed twelve members to show at Regionals and, God knows, they wouldn't be able to find anyone else willing to join. Besides, Rachel had offered him a bag of Sour Patch Kids and tips on how to get to second base with Zizes if he could convince Sam not to quit.

"Quinn cheated on you. It sucks. But you wanna know something?"

"Not really," Sam muttered under his breath.

"Finn has peaked for the season. In a couple weeks - once everyone has forgotten about the Conference Championship - his status as McKinley's resident stud is gonna drop faster than BP stock value after the Deepwater Horizon oil spill."

"I don't know what that is," Sam admitted dimly, but Puck carried on regardless.

"And when that happens, you're going to become the coolest guy in school and Quinn will be begging you to take her back. In the mean time, why not date a hot cheerleader? Like Santana."

Sam couldn't figure out whether he was impressed or appalled by Puck's advice. He appreciated popularity and wanted to be cool, but he'd always thought of glee club as being insulated from those pressures. Now Puckerman was telling him he should use the choir room as some sort of staging ground for a cockfight with Finn. And even more offensive than that was the suggestion that he should _use_ another girl to do it. He just wasn't that kind of guy.

"Look, I appreciate your advice, Puck, but I'm not going to enter into some pissing contest over a girl."

"Then _don't_," Puck said exasperatedly. Realising that appealing to Sam's vanity might not work, Puck tried another approach. "Take the high road, if that's what you want. But don't let _anybody_ ruin something you love. Quitting might seem like a good option right now and, sure, it might be easier to not have to see Quinn. But, in the long run, you're going to lose more than you gain by leaving. Because people in glee club actually like you and care about you and, I bet if you stopped to think about it, the only real friends you have in this school are in glee."

Sam's eyebrows knitted together in contemplation. He thought Puck might be right. The glee kids had welcomed him into their sacred fold and, with the exception of Santana - who was constantly mocking him about the size of his mouth and his, quote unquote, 'poorly bleached boy band hair-do' - they were nice to him. Some of them even laughed at his various impersonations, unlike the guys on the football team who would yell at him to 'shut up' and 'stop being such a nerd' at the first inkling of a Sean Connery impression.

"Look, I've got to go," Puck said after a brief pause. "I'll see you tomorrow in glee rehearsal."

It wasn't a question; he said it with confidence and authority. Like he _knew_ Sam was going to be there.

Sam still wasn't sure, though. Over the last few days, that sense of _belonging_ had started to fade. He remembered the day he joined New Directions and Finn jumping enthusiastically out of his seat to come pat him on the back and introduce him to everybody. He also remembered the first time he received a slushy facial and how Quinn had pulled him into the girls' bathroom to help him clean off. They were the first two people to make him feel welcome at William McKinley; yet stabbing him in the back had been child's play for them. How was he supposed to trust everybody else not to do the same?

* * *

Rachel was tinkling away on the piano in the auditorium when she heard heavy footsteps approaching from stage left. "I texted you fifteen minutes ago," she said accusingly without turning to check who was there.

"I know. You're kind of hot when you're being bossy, Berry," Puck remarked salaciously.

Rachel simply rolled her eyes. Sometimes she found it hard to believe that she and Puck had such a good relationship, especially since he'd spent the entirety of their freshman year gifting her with daily slushy facials.

"So... why are you late?"

"Calm down, slave driver. I was actually speaking to Sam, if you must know. Pretty sure he's going to turn up at glee rehearsal tomorrow... so pay up, Berry."

Rachel couldn't help but laugh. She'd never seen Puck so whipped. Lauren had him exactly where she wanted him; in a perpetual state of confusion and despair. She actually felt kind of bad for the guy.

"If you want to be intimate with Lauren, you need to do something to show that you care and are committed to the relationship. The first time I let Finn touch the twins, it was because he agreed to let me raise our children in the Jewish faith."

Puck grimaced at the disturbing mental image of Finn groping Rachel's boobs with his freakishly large hands. And even more disturbing was the possibility of a child made up of half Finn's DNA and half Rachel's; it would be annoying and stupid.

"As for the Sour Patch Kids... you can have them when Sam shows up."

"Okay, that sounds fair. But what the hell am I supposed to bribe Zizes with?" Puck asked, still trying to figure out how he was going to get his hands on his girl's boobs.

Rachel sighed exasperatedly. "It's not a _bribe_. And, I don't know. _You_ need to figure out what's important to her. Now... let's get to our work."

He often wondered whether Rachel ever just took five minutes off to relax. It seemed like she was constantly working on something, whether it be a set list for Regionals or a grand scheme to woo Finn back into her arms.

"Fine," Puck conceded reluctantly. "What did you have in mind?"

"_Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now _by Starship," she stated resolutely.

Puck burst into uncontrollable laughter. Rachel stared at him in annoyance.

"I'm sorry, Rach, but that is a terrible song."

"No it's not," she protested. "It's an '80s _anthem_."

"No. It's terrible."

"Fine," she huffed. "You come up with something better."

"Okay then... how about _Fast Car _by Tracy Chapman? I know it's old, but it's a pretty good song. We could rearrange it into a duet and I could play my guitar," he suggested.

Rachel mulled it over for a few short moments. She was thinking so intensely that it looked like she was trying to solve math problems in her head. "Though I loath to admit it, that's not a half bad idea, Puckerman," she finally said. "It's emotional and a slightly unconventional take on the idea of an anthem... but it might actually work."

Puck thought there must be flying pigs in an icy hell because, _sweet Lord, was Rachel Berry actually agreeing with him on something? _He was confused, to say the least. Rachel liked to think of herself as the 'arbiter of all that is good' (though Puck preferred the more apt title 'evil dictator of taste') so getting a thumbs up from her was like receiving a compliment from Santana.

"Really?"

"Yeah. Now go get to work. That song isn't going to transpose itself."

Puck turned to leave before Rachel had time to change her mind. Just as he was about to move away from her, she swiveled round on the piano stool and delivered a cheeky slap to his ass, as if to tell him to get a move on. He looked over his shoulder and winked saucily at her. She giggled a little and then shouted "_Go!_"

* * *

They had an extended glee rehearsal after school the next day to make up for the one Mr Schue had cancelled. With less than four weeks until Regionals, he wanted to start discussing possible numbers for the competition.

It was ten past three and everybody except Sam was already sat down waiting to begin. Mr Schue kept glancing at the second hand of the clock, wondering how long they would have to wait until Rachel would accept the boy wasn't coming and allow them to begin. She was sitting in the back row on her own, her left knee bouncing vigorously.

Finn could see her out of the corner of his eye from his seat in the row just in front and slightly to her left. Knee bouncing was something he knew she did when she was either nervous or feeling impatient, and he suspected this particular spell was induced by a mixture of both. He suddenly stretched out his long arm and placed his hand over her thigh to still her movements. He looked at her with a calm expression on his face and she smiled back shyly before he removed his hand.

"Rachel, can we please just start? Sam can join in when he arrives," Mr Schue finally spoke.

"Fine," Rachel agreed reluctantly. It bothered her that no one else really believed he was going to show up. Maybe there was even a part of herself that doubted it, but she was in denial because she didn't want to have to think about replacing him. It would be impossible to find anyone who was as talented, handsome and had as much buzz at McKinley as Sam. And, not only was he an invaluable asset for the team, she actually kind of liked him.

"Okay. So, since you guys didn't take to the theme I set for this week, we're just going to work on our dancing today. It's booty camp time!"

Nobody looked excited about this, except for Mike and Brittany. Even Brittany's excitement probably had more to do with the decoder ring she'd just pulled out of her Cracker Jack than the prospect of spending the next hour practising dance steps she already knew how to do.

"Come on guys, look alive." They were all startled by the voice coming from the door and quickly whipped their heads round in unison to see Sam standing there, hands stuffed awkwardly into his pockets and cute - if slightly strained - smile in place.

Puck jumped up and walked towards him, with Artie rolling close behind, to give him a friendly punch to the shoulder.

"It's good to have you back, Sam," Mr Schue said sincerely. "But we have work to do."

Some of the other glee kids high-fived him or patted him on the back as he took a seat in between Artie and Puck in the front row. Rachel grinned at him warmly from the back of the room.

Once everyone had settled down into their seats and Mr Schue had started to explain the plan for the rest of the rehearsal - which almost all of them seemed more enthusiastic about since Sam's arrival - Puck leaned back on his chair to get Rachel's attention. When she eventually looked in his direction, he mouthed the words '_you owe me._'

She chuckled under her breath for a moment, before pulling a packet of Sour Patch Kids out of he bag and holding them up to him.

* * *

**Thanks for reading and all the reviews/follows/favourites from the last chapter. Your enthusiasm keeps me writing. So please, please keep giving me feedback and suggestions for future chapters!**


	4. Jewish Reformative Boot Camp

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.**

**And then there came a chapter that's entirely about Finchel v. Puckleberry...**

* * *

After glee rehearsal, everybody left to go home. Rachel, however, decided to stick around to use the empty choir room to start practising early for Regionals. After Mr Schue gave her solo to Santana at Sectionals, she wanted to make sure she was on top form and so phenomenal that he couldn't possibly justify pulling that stunt again.

She'd been running scales for about ten minuted when she was interrupted.

"Hey," Finn greeted her softly as he cam up behind her.

"Hey, I thought everybody had left?"

"I had to stay behind to speak to Coach Beiste," he explained. "You sound great, by the way."

She smiled at him. Finn's approval meant so much more to her than anybody else's.

"I was wondering whether I could talk to you about something?" He seemed pretty nervous.

"Yeah, sure."

Finn walked over to the cluster of chairs at the other side of the room. He took a seat and motioned for Rachel to sit down beside him.

"I just feel like I owe you an explanation. You know... about the whole Quinn thing."

Rachel shook her head resolutely. "You don't have to do that."

"I know, but I want to," he told her, his hazel eyes silently pleading her to listen.

She nodded her head, indicating for him to continue.

"I know what I did to Sam was pretty shitty... but, at some point, I just sort of started _wanting_ things too much."

"When?" she whispered.

"The day I met you." Rachel's eyes widened, slightly taken aback by his admission. "You were so talented and determined to get what you wanted. And you wouldn't have let anybody stand in the way of your dreams. I guess I kind of admired that in you and... um, for the first time, I really, _really_ wanted something too."

"What?"

"You."

Rachel was speechless. He'd never told her any of this before.

"But I'm not all that like you, Rach," he continued. "Even though some people find you annoying sometimes, you're not mean. You'd never _hurt_ anybody to get what you want."

"That's not true. I sent Sunshine Corazon to a crack house just to stop her from joining New Directions, remember?"

Rachel bowed her head to hide her shamefaced expression. Finn squeezed her knee and cast her one of his signature lopsided smiles to reassure her that all was forgiven.

"I know... but you'd never steal someone's boyfriend."

Rachel didn't know whether she should argue with him but, since he was being so honest with her, she figured she should be too. "Actually, that's not true either."

Finn looked at her questioningly.

"I would have stolen you. I knew you were dating Quinn when I met you, but I wanted you really bad as well. And I can't in good faith say that I regret kissing you... you know, that day in the auditorium after the pep assembly."

He smiled wistfully at the memory of their impromptu first date.

"The only real difference between what I did to Quinn and what you've done to Sam is that Sam found out."

"I guess," he sighed skeptically. "But you didn't _owe_ anything to Quinn. She wasn't your friend."

They both remained silent for a few moments after that. Rachel didn't know what to say to make him feel better, or even whether she wanted to make him feel better. As petty as it was, she kind of wanted him to suffer the guilt he'd made her suffer since she admitted to kissing Puck.

"What are you working on, anyway?" He finally asked, changing the subject.

"I'm in my second week of intense daily vocal workouts in preparation for Regionals. The Warblers and Aural Intensity aren't going to know what's hit 'em."

Finn chuckled. "I don't doubt that... but, why? You're like the only person in glee club who _doesn't_ need to work harder."

"If I don't push myself, I'll lose focus. And if I lose focus, we're not going to even get to Nationals this year, let alone win. Can I be honest with you Finn?" she whispered conspiratorially.

"Yeah, always."

"I _really_ want to win Nationals."

It was no secret that Rachel liked to win. But no one other than Finn really seemed to understand why. He knew that each medal and trophy that lined the walls and shelves of her bedroom was a token of her greatness, a reminder that she was special and destined to become a star. Because, beneath her arrogance and self-reliance, Rachel Berry was actually just as scared and insecure as everybody else. Every single loss was a blow to her confidence and made her question whether she was good enough to become a star.

"You know, _if_ we don't win, it won't be your fault," he reassured her. "Unfortunately you have to carry the rest of us dead weights."

"That's not true," she objected fervently, turning to look him directly in the eyes. "You guys... Well, we're like family. A very dysfunctional one, but still a family."

That crooked smile appeared at the corner of his lips once again and Rachel could feel her heart pounding a little heavier in response. She was looking at him, searching for any sign that she maybe had that effect on him, but there wasn't any. For the first time in a long time she felt invisible when he looked at her.

"Hey," he nudged after a few moments, obviously growing self-conscious under the scrutiny of her piercing eyes. "What you thinking?"

"Uh, nothing," she lied. "It's just I have to go. I told my dads I'd be back by five."_  
_

"But it's only ten past four," Finn countered, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. She only lived ten minutes away from school.

"Yeah, I have to go to the grocery store first." Another lie.

She jumped out of her seat to make a beeline towards the door before he asked any more questions that would force her to tell more lies. Rachel didn't really like lying (especially not to Finn) and she wasn't very good at it (except on the stage).

Finn followed her out of the choir room and called her name down the hallway just before she got to the main exit. She stopped, but she didn't turn to face him. He took several long strides towards her until he was only a few metres away (of course, she didn't know this because she was still facing in the opposite direction).

"I'm sorry," he murmured to the back of her head, so softly that she could barely hear him.

She wasn't sure what he was saying sorry for. She thought he probably didn't really know either. And she didn't ask because she was afraid he might say something like '_sorry I don't love you anymore_' or '_sorry, but I just like Quinn more._' So she bravely choked back the sobs that were threatening to break loose and weakly told him - without even looking at him - that it was okay and that she forgave him, before walking away.

* * *

As soon as she made it to the secluded haven of her Prius out in the parking lot, the tears started flowing freely until her body was shaking with sobs and she couldn't catch her breath. It felt like she was falling apart all over again. Over the past few months, she had convinced herself that she was over the heartbreak of losing Finn and was ready to refocus all her energy on her Broadway dreams. It wasn't until she found herself in this state - locked in her empty car, head pressed against the steering wheel whilst salty tears dripped into her lap, leaving hideous stains on her favourite skirt - that it became apparent she wasn't doing quite as well as she'd previously thought. One look in the rear view mirror told her that the fragile mess she had become bore almost no resemblance to the headstrong, take-no-prisoners sophomore she'd been only a year ago.

Eventually she recovered enough to turn on the engine and reverse out the lot, but she drove in the opposite direction from home. She wouldn't allow her dads to see her so weak and dejected because she knew it would only cause them worry. Sometimes when she was too sad to even sing about it, she would just drive around for a while to clear her head with no destination in mind.

After a while, she pulled in at the side of the road in a neighbourhood in the northern suburbs of Lima, cutting the ignition and getting out of the car. She'd only been to this side of town a few times and to this specific house once yet, in her current state of turmoil, he subconscious had dictated that this was where she should go.

Rachel walked up to the black-painted front door and rang the doorbell. She could hear muffled stomping and shouting from inside and she started to think it was a mistake coming to the Puckermans' household. Just as she was about to turn to leave, the door swung open to reveal Puck's mom.

"Oh, hello Rachel," she greeted. "Come in."

She opened the door wider and stepped aside to let Rachel in, closing it behind her. Even though they had only met once, Mrs Puckerman liked Rachel a lot. Rachel assumed it was because she approved of her Jewish roots and upbringing.

But Puck's mom seemed uneasy about her presence now, and it made Rachel wonder whether she had interrupted their dinner or a family argument.

"I'm sorry about the mess. We weren't expecting you."

"No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have stopped by unannounced, but I was just in the neighbourhood."

"Don't be silly. Stop by any time. I'll just get Noah for you."

Rachel was expecting the older woman to move into the living room or something to find her son, but she simply stayed where she was and bellowed up the stairs, "Noah, get your lazy butt down here. Rachel's here!"

Assault rifles and Puck's cursing could be heard from upstairs, followed by heavy footsteps and slamming doors.

"This better be good, Berry. I was just about to blow a zombie's head off," he muttered as he cam down the stairs.

Rachel rolled her eyes. She couldn't figure out why all guys - except for Kurt - enjoyed those horrifically violent video games so much.

"Good grief, what happened to you? You look like that girl from _The Ring,_" Puck stated tactlessly as his eyes landed on her.

Puck's mom slapped him round the head and tutted at him, whilst Rachel looked around bewildered, trying to find a hallway mirror. When she finally caught a glimpse of herself, she gasped, frightened by her own appearance. Her face was red and puffy, with mascara smeared beneath her eyes and her matted bangs sticking to her cheeks and forehead. At least she knew now why Puck's mom had been looking at her funnily.

"Oh my God," Rachel shrieked, before breaking out into sobs once again. "I'm hideous," she wailed.

Puck leaned into his mother and whispered, "is she on her period?" which earned him another smack. Much like Rachel didn't understand the appeal of_ Call of Duty_, Puck didn't understand the emotional constitution of women.

As Rachel continued to futilely wipe the mascara from her face, Mrs Puckerman dragged her son a little down the hallway and started schooling him on sensitivity, and how to treat a woman when she's upset, and a load of other crap Puck stopped listening to about half way through her rant.

Turning back to Rachel a few seconds later, he halfheartedly asked her if she wanted to talk. He remembered Quinn telling him that girls liked to talk about stuff when they are upset. It wasn't his go to method for blowing of steam, but he guessed Rachel wouldn't want to make out or shoot hoops in the back yard.

She sniffed and nodded weakly, so Puck led her up to the privacy of his bedroom.

Rachel sat on the edge of his unmade bed, looking around at the dirty laundry scattered across the floor and the crusty, unwashed cereal bowls. Puck noticed her crinkle her nose in disgust.

"Uh, so what did you want to talk about?" he asked awkwardly.

Rachel started to tear up again, sending Puck into a panic as he flapped around the room in search of tissues.

"Ah, no. Please don't cry. Sorry," he mumbled disjointedly, unsure how he'd already messed up after only one simple question.

Rachel waved her hand to convey that she was okay and he hadn't done anything wrong. "No, no. It's just- it's Finn," she choked.

Puck rolled his eyes. Yesterday he'd played guidance counselor to Sam, and now Rachel was expecting some of the same treatment. _I should be getting paid for this, _he thought to himself.

"Well, don't you usually talk to Lady Hummel about this sort of stuff?" he asked skeptically, trying to find a way out of the impending, sure-to-be-awkward conversation.

"Yes, but Kurt lives with Finn and I didn't want to risk seeing him."

"Uh, okay. Well, what about Finn?"

"W-why doesn't he l-love me?" she stuttered through sobs.

The mattress sank as Puck sat down beside her, raising his hand and hesitantly patting her on the shoulder. He still didn't feel entirely comfortable with the gesture or with the girly chat in general.

"Because he's an idiot," he answered bluntly.

Puck didn't know what else to say, having had very little experience with love and relationships himself. He thought he might have loved Quinn at some point or another, but he couldn't remember when that had stopped or why.

All of a sudden, Rachel threw herself into his lap, burying her face in the front of his jeans. An look of panic crossed Puck's face as he wondered whether she realised how dangerously close to his manhood she was.

"If you want a below-the-belt access pass, you could at least buy me dinner first," he drawled salaciously.

"Shut it, Puckerman!" Rachel bit back harshly.

"Sorry, probably the wrong thing to say," he replied sheepishly.

Puck's hands were still raised above his head in a startled surrender, clueless where to place them. He didn't think Rachel would appreciate getting her ass groped at this particular moment - or ever, for that matter - even though it was tantalisingly stuck up in the air. Instead he settled for patting her on the shoulder a couple of times in a manner that was almost patronising, before letting his hands fall limply at his sides.

After a minute of silence, she whined into his lap, "what do I do now?"

_You could start by unbuttoning my pants_, Puck thought, though he refrained from voicing the lewd comment aloud.

"I have no real friends, no boyfriend, and I won't even have a Regional win if Mr Shue's set list is anything to go by," she continued pitifully before Puck was able to come up with something more insightful to say.

Eventually, it cam to him. "Can I be brutally honest with you, Berry?"

She nodded into his crotch and he almost laughed at how much it looked like she was going down on him.

"You need to chill the fuck out," he blurted out.

At that, her head popped up. "Excuse me?" she asked, eyes wide and unamused.

Puck was genuinely concerned he might spontaneously combust under her heated glare, but he continued anyway. "I'm serious, Berry. Does it not get exhausting being you?"

The expression on her face gradually morphed into one of consideration. She had to admit, the pressure that came with being Rachel Berry - News Directions' co-captain and Broadway star in the making - could get quite overwhelming at times.

Puck could see it in her eyes that she was coming round to his way of thinking. "So... why don't you stop valuing yourself in terms of boyfriends and trophies, and just loosen up a little bit?"

"How?" she asked, genuinely intrigued by his proposition.

"Well, I guess you're not up for a shoplifting spree down at the mall or setting off some firecrackers in my basement?"

Rachel rolled her eyes incredulously.

"That's a no then..."

"You're supposed to be thinking of ways to mellow me out a bit, Noah... not getting me shipped off to Jewish reformative boot camp," she whined.

"Well, if you want to to be more mellow, you should definitely start by calling me Puck. Only my mom and my parole officer call me Noah," he told her for about the thousandth time. "Now get over here."

Rachel eyed him skeptically, before shuffling closer so that Puck could tentatively wrap his arms around her. He wasn't usually the hugging type, but he figured she could use one.

"You're more than your voice, and you're definitely more than some dope's girlfriend," he reassured her. "You're a fierce, Jewish-American diva-princess."

Her eyes fluttered shut as she buried her face into his chest, savouring the complement and the friendship he was offering her. Rachel smirked, knowing that Puck would probably transfer schools out of shame if she told anyone about this encounter.

* * *

**Thanks for reading again. You're all wonderful! And an extra special thanks to those of you who have taken the time to follow, favourite and review.**

**I'm kind of getting the impression from reviews that people want to see romantic Puckleberry. I'm open to exploring that possibility if that's what people want to see, so let me know by leaving a review. Seriously though, reviews are the best way to let me know what you like and don't like about the story and which characters, friendships and couples you'd like to see more of ;-) **

**I can tease Rachel, Puck and Sam FINALLY hanging out all together in the next chapter. Exciting, right!?**

**(P.S.**** I'm sorry if you guys don't like Finchel, but I had to have them interact a little bit in order to move the story forward. From here on out though, Finchel interaction will come in much smaller doses.)**


	5. Dine and Dash

**Disclaimer: once again, I do not own Glee.**

**Sorry it took a while for me to update, but I hope you enjoy this slightly longer chapter.**

* * *

The next week or so passed uneventfully after that. Rachel didn't talk to Puck about her emotional meltdown and she avoided talking to Finn altogether. She started sitting next to Sam in glee rehearsal, in part because she knew it would discourage Finn from coming near her, but also because their conversation at the bleachers had sown the first seeds of friendship.

With just over two weeks until Regionals, Mr Shuester had been riding them hard. After school rehearsals had been extended from one hour to two and he'd also suggested adding in a Saturday morning rehearsal, to which the entire club had protested. Even Rachel was becoming sick of singing, mainly because it kept getting in the way of her plans to start letting off some steam with Puck. With all the pressure her teammates were putting on her for the competition, she was finding it difficult to stop valuing herself based on her talent, as Puck had suggested.

It was a Friday afternoon, after the New Directions had finished practising for the day, when Puck finally thought of something fun to do that wasn't so bad-ass that Rachel would immediately shoot him down. He knew he'd still have to ease her into the idea though.

"Anyone else fancy hitting up _Pinocchio's Pizza_? These rehearsals always leave me hungry," he addressed to no on in particular, though Rachel, Sam and Brittany were the only ones who hadn't left yet.

"Yeah man, I'm totally in. Their double pepperoni is the best thing I've ever tasted," Sam answered enthusiastically.

"Well, I'm a vegan, but I suppose I could order a salad or some olives," Rachel agreed.

"I can't. I'm trapped on a pink cloud," Brittany stated dreamily.

Three pairs of eyes turned to look at her in an attempt to discern what was going on in Brittany-land. She was completely out of it which, in itself, was nothing unusual; but the empty pseudoephedrine packet lying next to her foot was slightly alarming. Rachel walked over to pick it up, asking Brittany how many of them she'd taken.

"I don't know. I lost count after ten."

"She's high as a kite," Sam said as he waved a hand in front of Brittany's face, to which she had no response.

"Oh well, looks like Brittany's out." Puck didn't really care as long as he had Rachel on board and, admittedly, Sam's presence would also help to defuse the tension. Besides, going out for dinner with just Rachel would seem suspiciously like a date if Finn ever found out, and the conflict that might cause probably wasn't worth the exertion.

"We can't leave her here. She probably won't be able to figure out how to get out," Rachel said exasperatedly.

"No man gets left behind, you know that," Sam added in a voice that wasn't exactly his own, but sounded exactly the same as all his other impersonations.

"_Black Hawk Down_, nice." Sam beamed at Puck, proud that someone had finally correctly identified one of his movie references.

"And _fine_, we can throw her in the bed of my truck," Puck conceded with and exasperated huff.

"Isn't that a little... inhumane?"

"I'm a unicorn," Brittany cooed in response to Rachel's question. Apparently there were no animal cruelty laws regarding the treatment of mystical horses with horns on their heads.

"See, Brittany doesn't care; she's a unicorn. Now let's go. Vamos!"

It took longer than expected to get from the choir room to the parking lot because, as it turned out, one of the many side effects of pseudoephedrine was muscle stiffening and Brittany had taken so much of it that she was incapable of bending her limbs. The simple task of getting her to Puck's truck looked like a scene from _Weekend at Bernie's_. Eventually, Sam and Puck had resorted to carrying her on their shoulders.

A half hour later, the four friends were sat in a booth at _Pinocchio's_ sipping their sodas and gorging on pizza. Puck and Sam were partaking in an intense competition to determine who could eat their family sized meat feast pizza quickest and, because their mouths were stuffed to full capacity, they couldn't even protest to Rachel's incessant harping on about Regionals. Brittany was still staring off in to space, but apparently the effects of the pseudoephedrine were starting to wear off, since she'd at least regained feeling in her toes.

"Ha! I win!" Puck gloated through a mouthful of pizza, causing pieces of the offending food to come flying out of his mouth.

"How charming, Noah," Rachel commented dryly, raising a napkin to her face to wipe away the little spots of tomato sauce residue Puck had just sprayed over her.

"Even with that big gob of yours, you got nothing on the Puckasaurus," he added once he'd swallowed the rest of his food.

Sam was still furiously chewing on his food, but the dough had gone sticky and he was now finding it very difficult to move his jaw. It didn't stop him from giving Puck a flash of his middle finger though.

"I like Sam's mouth," Brittany said simply. "You should go play bowls with my grandpa. He needs someone to clean his balls."

Puck snorted with laughter and Rachel punched him in the shoulder, as she tried her best to keep a straight face.

"I'm sure Sam would _love_ to lick your grandpa's balls," Puck quipped, earning an even harder smack, this time from Sam.

"Don't be so vulgar, Noah," Rachel chastised him. "Don't listen to them. I think your mouth's cute," she added looking at Sam.

As he'd just managed to swallow his last piece of pizza, he flashed his winning smile to thank her.

"Oh, hang on," she said leaning over the table towards him such that Puck, who was sitting directly opposite her, was able to see right down her top. He licked his lips lasciviously at the view of her pert, little breasts, which were bouncing slightly from the movement.

"You've got a bit of..." Rachel continued, raising her hand to swipe her thumb over Sam's upper lip. She held out her thumb to show him the piece of tomato, before moving back into an upright position and wiping it on the napkin in her lap.

"Thanks," Sam said gratefully.

After a few beats of silence, Rachel cleared her throat exaggeratedly and Puck snapped his head up to look at her narrowed eyes. "Enjoying the view?" she asked haughtily, crossing her arms over her chest.

_Oh crap, she totally just caught me looking at her ninnies, _Puck thought. He sputtered awkwardly, struggling to come up with one of his trademark witticisms. Embarrassingly, Sam beat him to it.

"Zizes still not letting you round second, huh?"

It was Puck's turn to smack Sam over the head. "As if. I'm a stud. Motorboated her and everything," he boasted, grinning lasciviously.

"That's a no then," Sam muttered dryly. Brittany started to imitate the sound of a motorboat engine, causing Rachel to burst into a fit of giggles.

"You're a terrible actor, Noah. But I could give you some lessons if you'd like?"

Rachel was mocking him and Puck didn't like it at all. As if being stuck in a sexless purgatory wasn't torture enough, he was now being taunted by the Virgin Princess herself.

"This is all your fault," he shrieked, turning an accusing glare on Rachel.

"Oh really? How so?" Rachel's tone somehow managed to be both indignant and curious.

"You were the one who gave me that lame ass advice about taking an interest in something important to her. When she asked me whether I was ready to get K.O.'ed, I thought she meant from all the sex I'd be getting."

"Hold up. What the hell happened?" Sam asked, a small smile of intrigue playing on his lips.

Puck could barely look at his friends as he answered and his cheeks started to flush crimson with embarrassment. "She took me wrestling."

"So Zizes beat the crap out of you?" Sam asked for clarification, his smile already breaking into a full-blown grin as Puck nodded his head in affirmation. "And you didn't get to motorboat her?

"Not unless you count getting buried under her ten gallon jugs during a chokeslam." His voice was humourless, but that didn't stop Rachel, Brittany and Sam from bursting into a raucous cacophony of laughter.

Rachel couldn't remember the last time she'd laughed so hard. By the time she managed to get herself under control, her stomach was aching and there were tears in her eyes.

"I don't know why you're laughing, Berry. The way I see it, you owe me," Puck demanded, fixing a penetrating stare on her.

"Excuse me?" Rachel looked back at Puck, an expression of disbelief etched onto her face.

"Yeah, you got me into this mess with your crappy agony aunt BS, which means you have to pay damages."

Part of her wanted to remind him that she'd given him that advice out of the goodness of her own heart and that he should be grateful for it. But she was also intrigued to find out what Puck had in mind in terms of _damages_. And, despite the hilarity of the mental image of Puck's mohawk sticking out from Lauren's cleavage as she pinned him to the ground, she did_ kind of_ feel bad for him. At least that's what she kept telling herself as she voiced her next question, eyes twinkling with mischief. "So... what do you want?"

The other occupants of the table stared at her in shock at how quickly she seemed to be relenting to Puck's suggestion. They'd all been expecting her to decline immediately and, in typical Rachel Berry fashion, threaten to sue if he even tried coming after her.

"Hey, you might want to be careful, Rachel," Sam warned. "Puck isn't above requesting sexual favours."

Puck smirked salaciously before commenting. "I don't have to _ask_ for sexual favours. I have the ladies begging on their knees."

Rachel rolled her eyes, completely unamused by her friend's crassness.

"Was Lauren on her knees when she beat you at wrestling, then?" Brittany asked in utter seriousness and entirely oblivious to the verbal blow she'd just delivered to Puck. Rachel and Sam chuckled at his expense, causing Puck to fix them with a heated glare.

"Shut up. What I propose is _one night_ of harmless fun, starting right now. Think of it as a little pre-Regionals party to celebrate our impending win." Rachel and Sam eyed one another warily before looking to Brittany, who simply shrugged. "So, what do you say? You three in?"

"Hell yeah," Brittany answered first, clearly unable to see any potential for disaster that Puck's idea of _fun _might entail.

Puck looked to Sam next, who seemed much less comfortable with agreeing. Rachel thought for a moment that she might have an ally in him, until he sighed histrionically and said, "why not?"

Rachel's eyes popped open in alarm at his betrayal, whilst three pairs of eyes focused on her, waiting for her response. "I'm sure having _fun_ with you typically ends with a DUI or pregnancy," Rachel protested superciliously.

The two boys sitting across from her in the booth looked at one another, chuckling at her drama queen tendencies. "Come on, Berry. I promise, no alcohol or sex, and I'll even get you home before curfew," Puck assured her.

Brittany was nudging Rachel with her elbow and smiling excitedly, like a toddler tasting chocolate for the first time. "Come on Rachel, it won't be any fun without you," the blonde girl pleaded.

With each word that Brittany said and each second Rachel spent looking at the girl sitting to her right, she felt her resolve slipping. The feeling of being included was so unfamiliar that Rachel found herself smiling and agreeing to join them. "Fine, I'm in."

"Awesome. Now we've got Berry on board, let's go!" Puck exclaimed.

Rachel started to slide out of the booth when she realised something. "Wait, we haven't paid for our food."

"So?" Puck questioned with a roguish grin.

"So, we have to pay," Rachel stated obviously, looking between the other three occupants of the table, all of whom were wearing unreadable expressions.

"Dine and dash?" Brittany eventually whispered to Puck, wondering whether the thought had occurred to him.

Rachel's mouth dropped open, aghast that Brittany would suggest such a juvenile and _illegal_ stunt. She became even more hysterical when she turned to see Puck and Sam nodding their heads in unison, matching impish smiles plastered on their faces. "What!? No way!" Rachel shrieked. "We could get caught."

"Shh! We're only going to get caught if you continue howling like a banshee," Puck scolded.

Rachel slapped her hand over her mouth to stop herself from saying anything else and to hide her worried expression.

"Excuse me, Rachel, could you let me out? I need to go to the bathroom," Brittany said casually, seemingly not even paying attention to the debate going on at the table. Without questioning her poor timing, Rachel slid out to let Brittany past and watched as she skipped over to the restroom.

Before she had chance to sit back down again, Puck held out his keys for Rachel. She eyed them skeptically as Puck said, "you go get in my truck. Evans and I will take care of the check." Rachel squinted at him, trying to figure out what he was up to, but Puck elaborated before she had chance to ask. "Just go and start the engine."

She still felt uncomfortable with what the two boys were about to do but she turned towards the door, sparing one last over-the-shoulder glance as she exited the pizzeria and headed towards Puck's truck, which was parked at the side of the road. Rachel turned the key in the ignition before getting settled in the passenger seat. Moments later, she glimpsed in the rear view mirror to see Brittany running from around the back of the pizzeria and jumping into the passenger side of Sam's car. "Where are you?" Rachel mumbled nervously as she drummed her fingertips against the dashboard and craned her neck to get a clearer view into the restaurant.

Puck and Sam suddenly emerged from the front entrance with a stocky, olive-skinned man dressed in a chef's uniform hot on their heels. The older man was brandishing a wooden spaghetti server and shouting irately in Italian; "torna indietro! Non hai pagato! Scoundrels!"

Fortunately, Puck and Sam were running fast enough to make it across the street before a car came past, but the older man was too far behind and ended up having to wait. Rachel ducked down to hide her face from the angry-looking Italian man, who was watching from across the street as Puck jumped into the driver's seat of the truck.

Puck sped off down the road, howling with laughter and high on an adrenaline kick. "That was close!" he exclaimed once he'd caught his breath, a broad grin stretching across his face.

Rachel fixed a piercing glare at him before smacking him several times across the shoulder. "Ouch, ouch. What the hell, Berry?"

"You're right, Noah, that was close. We could get _arrested_ for that."

Puck chuckled at her and she frowned in return. "You really are the biggest drama queen I've ever met. Broadway will be lucky to have you."

Rachel found herself softening at his compliment and she smiled bashfully at him, until she remembered she was supposed to be mad at him and delivered another weak blow to his shoulder. "I know what you're doing, Noah, and you can't get back in my good books that easily."

He had a feeling that she was just trying to keep him on his toes and that she'd actually already forgiven him for the stunt he'd pulled at the pizzeria, but he decided not to comment. "We're here," he exclaimed after a few minutes of driving in silence.

Rachel's face crumpled into a confused and mildly disappointed frown as she took in the familiar surroundings of the McKinley High parking lot. Besides the truck she was sat in and Sam's car, which was coming up behind them, her own Prius was the only car left in the lot. All the lights were out in the school and it was eerily quiet, making it seem completely deserted. "What are we doing here?" Rachel asked. It was seven-thirty on a Friday night and she'd already texted her Daddy to tell him she wouldn't be home until her midnight curfew. She couldn't believe that the night of _harmless fun_ Puck had promised was over already. Even though she'd been fuming over the dine and dash incident just minutes ago, getting pizza and running off without paying hardly lived up to the hype her mohawk-headed friend had created.

"I'm going to share one of my favourite pastimes with you," he said cryptically, getting out of the truck. Rachel followed him out into the parking lot, meeting Sam and Brittany by one of the entrances to the school.

"I think we need to go round the back," Sam suggested.

Puck led his three minions to another door on the opposite side of the tall, windowless building which Rachel knew was the school swimming pool, despite the fact she'd never been in there. Swimming was mandatory as part of Phys Ed, but Rachel had managed to avoid participation over the last two years, citing 'women's problems' as her excuse every single time. She was certain the coach had cottoned on to her lies but Rachel refused to splash about in the glorified cesspool, which she was sure harboured more bacteria than Noah's jockstrap.

"Brittany, do your thing," Puck said, moving away from the glass doors.

Brittany knelt down in front of the doors, plucking a bobby pin from her hair and inserting it into the lock. "Lord Tubbington showed me how to do this," she said seriously as she started to jiggle the pin around. "I think he was probably a spy or a criminal in his last life."

"What are we doing? We could get done for breaking and entering," Rachel shrieked as her mind processed what Brittany was doing.

"Well, technically Brittany's breaking; we're just entering," Sam said guilelessly.

Puck nodded in agreement. "Yeah, don't get your panties in a bunch, Berry. What's the worst that could happen?"

"We could get caught," she hissed.

"And if we do, Figgins will put us on litter duty for a week and then let us off the hook," he said calmly.

"Do these hands look like a garbage collector's hand to you?"

The door Brittany had been working on swung open just in time to distract Rachel from seeing Puck roll his eyes at her diva fit. "We're in," Brittany chirped, a bright smile on her face.

"Pool party!" Sam hollered excitedly, grabbing Brittany's hand and pulling her into the building.

Rather than following, Rachel stood still with her hands on her hips and her bottom lip jutting out in an annoyed pout. She really didn't feel happy about the turn of events and was seriously considering going back to her car and driving straight home.

"Are you really going to just stand there glaring at me like I ran over your cat?" Puck finally cut through the silence. "I promise I've done this a million times and never been caught."

Rachel felt her resolve slipping. There was something in the way he was looking at her that made her want to stay with him. Ever since Finn had broken up with her and Kurt had moved to Dalton, Rachel had been feeling kind of lonely and somewhat friendless. The only person who had really taken care of her in the last few months was standing right in front of her and, even though he seemed hell bent on making her break several laws, she felt safe with him. "Fine," she huffed theatrically, which made Puck smile.

He reached out to take her hand and, though she'd never admit it to anyone, it felt nice when his fingers slipped in between her own. Puck led her into the building where the large swimming pool was located. All the lights we switched out and it was starting to get dark outside, so there was very little natural light streaming in through the skylights. It took a minute for Rachel's eyes to adjust to the darkness, but she could already hear Brittany and Sam squealing and splashing in the water.

Puck released her hand to walk down to the far end of the pool, where she could now see two heads bobbing around in the water. Without warning, he started stripping down until he had nothing but his boxers on.

"Take them off! Take them off!" Brittany started chanting from the pool.

"I understand that my strip tease can get the ladies a little over-excited, Brits, but I'm not taking my underpants off," Puck commented dryly.

"Why not? I'm not wearing any," she admitted shamelessly. When Brittany jumped up out of the water slightly, it was clear that she wasn't wearing a bra either. "I _dare_ you to take them off."

Never one to back down from a dare, Puck flashed his signature smirk before hooking his thumbs into the elastic waistband and pulling them down his legs. As if to flaunt his victory, Puck held the boxers up and spun them on his index finger and then tossed them to the floor.

Rachel gasped, staring at his naked form in the dim light. She couldn't see much from where she was standing, but that didn't stop him from making a lewd comment. "Like what you see, Berry?"

She snapped her gaze away from Puck, flushing with embarrassment as he cannonballed into the swimming pool. Sam and Brittany started cheering as they splashed him with water.

"Are you coming in, Rachel? We really want to play chicken," Brittany said.

"If you want to be my partner, I'd appreciate you putting some panties on first," Sam muttered under his breath before Rachel had chance to answer.

"Oh, that's okay, Brit. I don't really like swimming," she said shyly. The idea of stripping down to her underwear in front of two of the most attractive boys in school and Brittany, whose body way so toned and womanly, was not an appealing one for Rachel.

"Okay. But could you just grab my panties for me? They're just over there," she said, pointing to a bench. "Sam's right. I should put them back on."

"Uh, sure." Rachel walked over to the bench, awkwardly picking up Brittany's white, lacy underwear and bringing them to the side of the pool. Just as Brittany was swimming up to get them, Puck emerged from underneath the water at Rachel's feet. As Rachel leaned out to toss the panties to Brittany, he grabbed onto her ankles and pulled, causing her to lose balance and tumble over him, fully clothed, into the water with a resounding _splash_.

When Rachel reached the surface, she was greeted with a startled expression on Brittany's face and a discord of laughter from the two boys.

"What the hell was that for?" she shrieked as she swan over to Puck and started smacking him over the head. "My clothes are drenched!"

"Ow! Stop hitting me! You heard Brittany; we need you to play chicken."

"Well, I'm not being your partner now," she shouted furiously.

"That's okay, Rachel. You can be my partner," Sam offered.

Rachel was about to dismiss the idea and get out of the pool to go search for a towel, when the expression on her face shifted from anger to vengeance. She was already wet anyway, so there was no longer anything stopping her from exacting her revenge on Puck and having a little bit of fun. "Okay. You better watch out, Puckerman, because I play to win."

Sam smiled brightly at her and gave her a high-five, before she swam back to the edge of the pool to remove all of her soggy clothes, save for her pink, cotton bra and matching panties.

"Bring it," Puck antagonised her. "You two are no match for us." Brittany smirked and nodded her head in agreement as she climbed up onto her partner's shoulders.

"Oh really? Because Rachel looks pissed, man, and I wouldn't put anything past a pissed Rachel," Sam warned him. Just then, Rachel returned and climbed onto Sam's shoulders as he sank down under the water. When he stood back up on his feet, elevating Rachel above the surface of the swimming pool, Puck wolf whistled at her scantily clad body. Rachel glowered at him to convey her utmost disdain for his perversion.

"Best of three?" Brittany asked and they all nodded their heads in agreement. "Three, two, one. GO!"

* * *

It was nearly midnight when Rachel rolled into her driveway, clad only in a towel and Sam's letterman jacket (her clothes had been too wet to put back on). Rachel and Sam had beaten Puck and Brittany in their best-of-three chicken tournament. As Sam suspected, Rachel was feisty and even more determined to win when she was pissed. Puck's forfeit for getting his ass kicked was to return home without any pants on, so his jeans were folded up on the back seat of Rachel's car.

Rachel sat in her car for a few moments, slightly afraid of how cold it would be outside and not really knowing what to tell her dads when they saw her attire. She was kind of hoping she'd be able to just slip past them into her bedroom without them even seeing her, but that seemed unlikely. Switching of her engine, she picked her phone up off the passenger seat, noticing she had a new message. It was from Finn.

_Hey. How are you? Haven't really spoken since last week. Please reply. x_

Rachel sighed, not really knowing how to respond to the message. At the moment she felt completely fine. In fact, she felt better than fine. She'd just had a really fun night with three people she now considered to be her close friends and she hadn't thought about Finn once the entire time. For the first time in a while, she'd managed to do something without the specter of her ex-boyfriend looming over her. But, once she'd read his message, the aching pain in her chest started coming back to her. It was much duller than it had been the week before and, with each day, it hurt a little less, but it was still there.

She deleted the message without replying, refusing to let Finn tarnish her perfect evening. Instead she opened one of her other message threads and quickly typed:

_Thank you for tonight. I had a lot of fun. Good night x_

She sighed contentedly as she sent the text off to Puck, before getting out of the car and heading into her house.

* * *

**Thanks for reading, once again. Please take time to review leaving questions/feedback/suggestions for future chapters. The encouragement makes me write quicker!**


	6. The Draft

**Disclaimer: I still don't own Glee, folks.**

* * *

The rest of the weekend was as uneventful as any other in Lima, Ohio. Rachel had managed to get through the house without being caught by her fathers on Friday night and she tumble dried her clothes when they went out to the supermarket on Saturday morning, leaving them blissfully unaware of her illicit swimming session. Besides ballet class on Saturday afternoon, most of her weekend was spent curled up on the sofa watching Barbra movies and munching on chocolate covered pretzels. The only truly exciting part of her weekend was meeting up with Kurt, Mercedes and Blaine on Sunday, which had become a standing date for the foursome ever since the Conference Championship. Kurt didn't mention his stepbrother at all during their time together and Rachel was grateful for that, whether his avoidance was intentional or not. She never did text Finn back and was quite happy he'd made no effort to contact her again.

Monday afternoon rolled around pretty quickly, despite the boring classes and the miserable weather, and Rachel was happy to get to glee rehearsal. She'd been let out of her final period English class slightly early so she decided to make a stop at her locker on the way to the choir room to drop off some books. As she opened the locker, she noticed the letterman jacket she'd stowed there when she arrived at school that morning, and decided she should return it to its owner.

Half the glee club was already waiting in the choir room when Rachel arrived. Tina and Mike were sat in their usual spot, kissing and cuddling and just generally being cute. At one time, it would have melted her heart; now it just made her feel sad and a little bit nauseous. Artie and Brittany were also acting adorable and _coupley_, though they were only holding hands and talking, so at least they noticed her when she walked in the room. "Hey Rachel," Brittany greeted her, alerting the one person she wanted to avoid to her presence.

Finn's focus immediately shifted from Quinn to Rachel, which caused her heart to pound a little harder. She had to remind herself that just because he was no longer listening to whatever his ex- and maybe current girlfriend was saying and was instead directing one of his most charming lopsided smiles at her, didn't mean he still liked her. He liked Quinn and kissing her felt like fireworks, apparently. It was much easier to focus on that simple fact than to wonder why the expression on his face immediately crumpled into a curious frown upon noticing the blue jacket in her arms.

Luckily Rachel was able to stop her mind from wandering down that track quick enough to answer Brittany without a noticeable delay. "Uh, hey Brits. How was your weekend?"

"Lord Tubbington finally completed Mario Kart this weekend," she beamed proudly. Rachel suppressed the urge to laugh at the vivid image of Brittany's obese cat playing on the Wii that her mind conjured up, and simply smiled instead.

Before the conversation could go any further, Puck and Sam entered the room. "I wonder what colour panties Rachel wears," Puck purposely whispered loud enough for Rachel to hear. She turned round to shoot him a withering glare, but Puck was undeterred. "I bet she wears pink panties."

Rachel was about to snap at him when Sam came to her defense. "Stop antagonising Rachel," he said, giving Puck a liberal shove, though his tone was still jovial and he was sporting a smile. "At least she's wearing panties, unlike you on Friday night."

Puck held his hands up in surrender. "Okay, you win. I'll stop trying to rile up Berry." Rachel flashed a grateful smile at Sam, though it turned out to be premature when seconds later Puck added, "even though I bet she looks sexy riled up."

"Uh, you're so frustrating," she whined, tossing the jacket at Puck's head. Undaunted by the _'I will kill you in your sleep'_ glare she was sporting, he chuckled at how easy it was to wind Rachel Berry up.

"Hey, is that my jacket?" Sam asked, noticing the article that Puck was now pulling from his head to reveal his lightly ruffed mohawk.

"Oh, yeah, it is." In her peripheral vision, Rachel noticed Finn observing the scene out of the corner of his eye. He was being subtle enough that no one else would even be able to tell - not even Quinn, who'd returned to blathering on about prom dresses, or Bible camp, or something else Rachel wasn't particularly interested in - but she'd spent enough time gazing longingly at Finn over the last eighteen months to know all of his facial expressions. However, his reason for watching Puck and Sam, now wrapped up in an intense tug-of-war over the blue jacket, was not immediately clear to her. After a moment of silent contemplation, it occurred to her that maybe he missed his best friends. Rachel shot him a sympathetic smile, even though she knew he'd made his own bed with regards to Sam's friendship. She did feel a little bad about Puck though, since she was the one who came between them and the reason they were still fighting now. Still, she couldn't do anything about it and, honestly, it felt nice to know at least one person was on her side.

She didn't have much time to think anymore about Finn before the remaining glee clubbers started filing into the choir room, followed by Mr Schuester. Coffee mug in one hand and leather briefcase in the other, he greeted them with a cheerful, "alright New Directions, time to get to work." The various conversations petered out into silence and Puck finally relinquished his grip on Sam's jacket as they waited for their director to explain the week's assignment. Rachel crossed her fingers behind her back – as she did every Monday morning – hoping against all hope that this week would be Barbra week. They'd already paid tribute to Britney, Madonna and Lady GaGa, yet Barbra and other Broadway legends had been sorely neglected. Rachel figured it must be because Mr Schuester knew that none of her fellow glee club members, besides Mercedes and possibly Tina, would be able to handle the challenge. Still, she longed to be tested in these rehearsals and was growing rather tired of the lacklustre assignments; which is why she was shocked to the core to hear the next string of words to leave Mr Shuester's mouth. "In recent weeks, I've become slightly concerned with the lack of team spirit in this club," he explained, looking pointedly between Finn, Puck, Quinn, Sam and Santana. "So, for the purpose of raising morale for Regionals, we're going to have a Diva-off."

Rachel clapped excitedly and turned to look at Mercedes next to her, who appeared equally excited by this week's assignment, until Quinn interjected. "How will pitting us all against one another raise morale?"

"I was inspired by Rachel and Mercedes's performance of _Take Me For What I Am_ a few weeks ago, and how it really seemed to cultivate a sense of mutual respect." The two divas smiled at one another, whilst Santana sat behind them pretending to gag theatrically. "This week, we're going to replicate that on a larger scale by breaking you up into two groups," Mr Schuester continued to explain. "As a group, you will select a song, design costumes, and put together and entire dance routine, and at the end of the week you will perform to one another. Ms Pillsbury and I will decide the winning team, and your prize is that your performance will be reworked to incorporate the other half of the club, so that it can be used at Regionals."

Everybody's curiosity was piqued. It was so rare for Mr Schue to give them free reign over a performance - with zero guidance on song choice, wardrobe and choreography – that Rachel felt like a bird being let out of a very small cage. She had so many ideas.

"So how are we doing this? Boys versus girls?" Puck asked. "I'd actually feel kind of bad schooling the girls again like we did in our last two head-to-heads." Rachel narrowed her eyes at the insinuation that the boys were more capable, especially since the boys didn't even win the first mash-off.

"I was actually thinking of doing Team Rachel versus Team Mercedes." Once again, Rachel's ears pricked up. This sounded like an idea she could back. "Our two biggest divas are going to take it in turns to recruit members for their team, much like the captains would do in Phys Ed."

"This will make a nice change from being chosen last," Rachel squeaked with excitement, earning a chuckle from Puck.

"Come on up ladies. We're going to do a coin toss to decide who picks first." Rachel and Mercedes bounded to the front of the choir room hand in hand, savouring their final moments as BFFs before diva week officially began. It was going to be a blood bath.

Rachel correctly called heads, meaning that she got to select first. With Mercedes heading up the opposition and Kurt currently at a different school, the two people who would have made the most valuable teammates were unavailable. She looked around the room for a moment, contemplating her options. Santana was certainly the best singer and the most rounded of the remaining glee clubbers, since she could dance as well, but she was also notoriously bitchy and Rachel feared she wouldn't be able to rely on her cooperation, so she went with the next best option. "Tina," she announced with a smile. Her first teammate jumped up enthusiastically and came to the front of the choir room to hug her captain, obviously excited that she was picked first.

It came as no surprise that Santana was the first drafted to Team Mercedes. Rachel selected Sam next, deciding that his solid vocals, sweet dance moves and boyish good looks would serve her team well.

"Good choice, Berry. I think we make a pretty awesome team," Sam said cheerfully as he high-fived Rachel and Tina. Finn struggled to keep the miffed expression off his face. Not only had Rachel selected two teammates without even giving him a second glance, apparently she was now part of some epic double-act with blond Beiber.

"I'll take Artie," Mercedes said decisively and he rolled up to join her, waving his finger sassily as he passed Rachel's team.

It was becoming progressively more difficult to select members. With the exception of Lauren, who was neither a strong vocalist nor dancer (though, in her favour, she did have enough attitude to terrify the competition), everyone who was left had their own unique strengths. She contemplated her options for a moment before selecting Brittany. Having her would give them an advantage with the choreography and Rachel truly enjoyed her company.

"Puckerman, you're up," Mercedes said authoritatively. Rachel was slightly disappointed. Puck would have been her next choice, but she didn't kick up a fuss about it. Mercedes had selected him fair and square and, truthfully, she was sort of looking forward to beating him again.

Clearly the same thought had occurred to him, since he muttered "do over on Friday night," just low enough for no one else to hear as he passed Rachel.

There was only four people left for the picking: Lauren, Mike, Quinn and Finn. Tina and Sam were quietly telling her to choose Mike, but Rachel was undecided. Her eyes wandered distractedly between the people in front of her, trying to figure out how to get the team she wanted. A few short months ago, she would have chosen Finn in a heartbeat (in fact, he probably would have been her very first pick), but she didn't think that was such a good idea. "Can I confer with my team for a moment?" Rachel directed her question at Mr Schue and he nodded, indicating they could move into a secluded corner.

Rachel, Tina, Sam and Brittany stood in a circle, leaning forward to create an enclosed space between them. "I think I'm going to choose Quinn," Rachel declared quietly enough that no one else would be able to hear.

"What?" Consumed with shock, Sam yelled the word much louder than expected, drawing the attention of everybody in the room. He popped his head up to look at them all, before Rachel wrapped an arm around his neck to pull him back into the circle. "Are you crazy? I can't work with Quinn," he said, much quieter now. Brittany looked surprised by the turn of events but didn't comment, whilst Tina continued trying to convince her to select Mike.

"Just hear me out, okay? I know you don't want to spend time with Quinn right now, Sam, and neither do I. But we all know that if I select Mike now, Mercedes is going to pick Quinn. Which means I'd have to choose between Lauren and Finn, and I… I just can't do that, okay? I can't in good faith choose Lauren over Finn, because he's clearly the stronger vocalist. But if there's one person I want to work with even less than Quinn, it's Finn. And I'm guessing you probably feel the same, right Sam?" She waited for him to nod his head before continuing. "Quinn's a really strong vocalist and a good dancer. If I choose her now, there's a good chance Mercedes will select Finn, so we'll still end up with Mike. But she'd never choose Finn over Quinn."

"Yeah, but what if Mercedes picks Mike over Finn? You'd still have to choose between Finn and Lauren, and Brits and I would end up stuck in a group with the love quadrangle from hell," Tina asked, obviously concerned that this plan could backfire.

"I don't think she will. Mike's an incredible dancer and I think he would be a brilliant addition to this team. But Mercedes is all about the vocals – you can see it just by looking at the people she's chosen already – and Finn is the stronger vocalist," Rachel reassured her.

Tina was biting her lip nervously, still unsure about this plan. Truthfully, Rachel was a little worried it might backfire as well, but it was a risk she knew she had to take if she wanted to win the competition without losing her mind. Tina reluctantly nodded her assent and the group broke apart. Rachel took a deep breath before facing those waiting to be selected. "We'll take Quinn," she stated plainly.

Bewilderment was written all over Quinn's features as she fixed her eyes on Rachel, who simply nodded and gestured for her to join the team. It was Finn's reaction that Rachel really noticed. His jaw went slack with utter shock and in his eyes she could detect the underlying hurt. She felt guilty for the briefest of seconds but it quickly subsided, to be replaced by an overwhelming sense of self-satisfaction that she'd just shown Finn and everybody else in glee club that she was no longer the moon-eyed girl who would use any excuse to spend time with him.

The remainder of the selection process went as Rachel had predicted and the whole team huddled together as Mike joined them. Quinn was clearly less than comfortable with being in Rachel and Sam's team, but she at least made an effort to seem enthusiastic. On the other side of the room, the tension between Puck and Finn was barely concealed and the group morale was suffering as a result. Even though her own relationship with Finn was strained at the moment, Rachel hoped that the former best friends would be able to work through their issues with this task. At least it might give them the chance to vent through music, rather than throwing punches at one another.

"Okay, guys. The teams are looking really good. This is going to be a close battle, so I suggest you get to work right away," Mr Schuester said once the excitement of team drafting had died down. The two groups alternated between using the auditorium and the choir room to rehearse. Mercedes's team was allowed to choose which room they wanted on the first day since Rachel had chosen first for team selection.

Rachel's team ended up in the auditorium for their first rehearsal, during which they discussed potential numbers. Rachel and Tina were keen to do a show tune, whereas Sam and Quinn both wanted to do something a little less _clean cut_. They argued that Mercedes's team and Mr Schuester would be expecting a show tune with Rachel at the helm, and Rachel had to admit they had a point. Brittany and Mike were pretty happy with whatever everyone else wanted, so long as it had a nice dance beat. By the end of the session, they had narrowed their options down to six songs.

Rachel and Sam decided to hang back in the auditorium for a while under the guise of practising for the competition, but mostly they just chatted about various inane topics until Puck walked in. "'Sup losers," he said in lieu of a _hello_.

"Always a pleasure, Noah," Rachel responded dryly. "But we really shouldn't be fraternising with the enemy."

"Whatever, it's not I'd be interested in whatever sappy ballad you guys have planned."

Rachel rolled her eyes liberally. "You're really not very good at baiting the competition," she observed. "How was _your_ practice?"

"Would you look at that? A woman actually being straightforward for once. You know, usually I like it when the ladies just dive right in to the good stuff, but I'm afraid it's not going to get you very far in this case, Berry."

"She's only asking 'cause she wants to know what's going on with Gigantor," Sam commented. For a guy who spent two weeks believing his girlfriend caught mono from performing mouth-to-mouth resuscitation on her ex-boyfriend, this new found astuteness was pretty impressive and Rachel would have been proud of him if it hadn't interfered with her plans to pry information out of Puck.

"Who knew Tweedledum here had such insight into the inner workings of the female mind?" Puck shook his head mockingly, whilst Sam huffed at the insult and tossed a quarter at the back of his head in retaliation. "I don't understand why you still care about Finn. You're better off without him," he said, turning serious again as he rubbed the spot the coin had bounced off before turning to shoot Sam an icy glare.

"I don't care about Finn," she retorted with more conviction than she felt. "I just don't like seeing you two fighting. Your friendship predates either of your relationships with me or with Quinn and you should be able to get past this."

"You're such a girl, Berry. I pissed him off, he punched me. It's over now. That's how guys roll. We're not going to have sleepovers with pillow fights and stay up into the early hours of the morning braiding each other's hair and talking about Leonardo DiCaprio or whoever the fuck teenage girls like these days."

"It's Ryan Gosling," Rachel corrected quietly.

"_Who?_ You know what, it doesn't matter. I actually just came to find out if Evans wants to play X-Box."

Sam looked at Rachel, who nodded her silent permission for him to leave. It wasn't as if they'd really been practising anyway and, frankly, she was looking forward to the solitude. Her feelings were more conflicted than ever. In a way, it felt incredible to show everybody that she was moving forward with her life when she chose not to have Finn on her team; yet she was still haunted by the look of hurt she'd seen flash in his eyes as he watched Puck and Sam messing around before glee rehearsal. She didn't want Finn to feel left out, but it wasn't like she could _force_ Puck and Sam to start including him in their X-Box tournaments and jamming sessions again. Besides, she really could understand why Sam wasn't ready to forgive him yet.

Suddenly Puck brought her back from her wandering thoughts. "You wanna come hang, Berry?"

Even though he didn't know it, Puck's question was a reminder of her most worrying conflict. Recently she had found herself wanting to _hang_ with Puck more and more. It had started the day she turned up at his house in her catatonic state and, since then, the desire to be around him had just grown stronger. This was a problem for two reasons. Firstly, he was still sort of seeing Lauren and she didn't particularly want to get on the wrong side of a girl who was on the boys wrestling team. Secondly, he was Puck, a womaniser and miscreant. Getting involved with him could only end in three ways: tears, expulsion or pregnancy, and possibly all three. Her head was screaming for her to _stay away_ from Puck, yet some deviant voice within herself was telling her to let loose, consequences be damned. That voice was quieter, but it was growing every day. It had occurred to Rachel that perhaps part of the reason she was so enthusiastic for Puck to make up with Finn was so she wouldn't have to deal with these conflicting feelings. The sacred code between 'bros' (no dating a bro's ex) would make her immediately off limits to Puck, thereby rendering entirely irrelevant any feelings she may or may not be harbouring.

"No thanks," she lied. "I'm going to keep practising."

The two boys said their goodbyes and exited the auditorium, leaving Rachel in the company of her insolvable conundrums. Only three months ago, she'd felt like the happiest, luckiest girl alive. Everything had seemed so certain - her relationship with Finn, her friendship with her fellow glee clubbers, and their impending win at Sectionals - but now it felt like she was falling through thin air with absolutely nothing to cling onto. The only thing that hadn't changed was her dream of Broadway stardom. So, until she could figure out a solution to all her problems, she decided to focus on that and went back to practising her scales.

* * *

Rachel returned to her car not long after Puck and Sam left, deciding she'd rather go home and make banana bread before continuing her vocal exercises in the comfort of her own bedroom. She'd only just put the keys in the ignition when someone got into the passenger seat, slamming the door behind them.

"Jeez, Finn. You scared me," she gasped as she turned towards him.

He quickly apologised and then sat in silence for seconds that seemed to stretch on for days, simply staring at one another as the rain continued to pour outside. "Hi," Finn finally breathed, though none of the tension between them had dissipated. Looking at Finn squashed into the tiny passenger seat of her Prius, Rachel suddenly realised why he always insisted on driving when they were dating. The expression on his face portrayed his growing discomfort; Rachel sensed that it had more to do with the direction the conversation was about to take than any physical malaise.

"Hello," she greeted him cautiously.

"You didn't text me back," he said, his tone somehow managing to be both soft and accusing.

"No," she answered without elaboration. It didn't sound like he was asking for an explanation and she didn't feel inclined to offer one.

"You didn't choose me to be in your group." Rachel didn't bother to answer at all this time, sheepishly bowing her head to avoid his penetrating gaze. There was no point in trying to explain her way out of that one. She didn't want to hurt him with the truth – that she _didn't want_ to spend time with him – but she knew he'd see through any lie she told him.

"You had Sam's jacket." At this, her eyes widened curiously and she stared at him, trying to figure out why it would matter to Finn that she'd borrowed Sam's jacket. It seemed like he was upset about it for some reason. "You used to wear my jacket," he sighed.

"_That's_ why you're upset?" she asked exasperatedly. "You think that because I borrowed a stupid jacket, I must be dating Sam." Finn turned to look directly at her, raising his eyebrow suspiciously. In that moment, the anger erupted inside of her and she started shouting. "Well, _I'm not_. Not that it's any of your business where I go, who I see, or what I do. You forfeited any right to be jealous when _you_," – she pointed at him to emphasise her fury – "broke up with _me_."

He chewed on his bottom lip, seemingly thinking about something important, before releasing a deep breath. "You're right. It's not my business. And I shouldn't be jealous," he admitted. "But I still care about you, Rachel. I just need you to know that."

Tears were welling up in her eyes once again and she wondered how many times she'd have to cry before there were no more tears to be shed over Finn Hudson. Luckily she managed to keep them at bay for the time being. "I care about you too. But it's not right for me to sit around waiting for you to decide _when_ and _if_ you want to be with me. I need to move on with my life and, at some point, that might involve dating somebody else. When that day comes, all I ask is that you try to be as understanding as I've been of your relationship with Quinn."

Finn nodded in acceptance, knowing that she was right and he was being selfish, but his melancholy smile didn't reach his eyes. They sat in silence for a while, trying to get used to the palpable shift in their relationship, but it soon started to get dark outside and Rachel told him she needed to get home for dinner. Just as he was about to get out of the car, Finn stopped himself. "You deserve someone great, Rachel. I really hope you find him." He leaned in to kiss her softly on the forehead and both of their eyes fluttered shut as his lips lingered there. Once the moment had passed, Finn left without either one of them saying another word. All alone in her car, Rachel released a breath she hadn't even realised she was holding. For the first time in a while, the weight on her shoulders felt just a little bit lighter.

* * *

**So, another long chapter. Sorry not much happened in it, but that's just the way it is sometimes. Next chapter should be a little more exciting. I didn't really know how heavy this chapter was going to end up being for Rachel when I started writing it, but I hope you enjoyed it anyway. Once again, I really appreciate your follows, favourites and _especially_ your reviews. And I'd really appreciate some feedback on this chapter because I'm not entirely sure whether I like it or whether Rachel's feelings even make much sense to anyone other than me. Let me know whether you like where it's going or not? Thanks for reading!**


	7. Girl Interrupted

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee. Warning: a little bit of *smut***

Puck moved stealthily down the hallway towards his locker, eager not to get accosted by anybody on his way. For once in his life, he actually wanted to get to calculus and focus on trig functions or anything that would take his mind off the slew of images that had invaded his brain in his sleep. He knew he'd be able to avoid Rachel - as in the honest-to-God, in-the-flesh Rachel - until at least glee rehearsal if he was smart about it, since they didn't have any of the same classes.

Puck was so busy thinking about Rachel that he failed to notice that someone had sidled up next to him until they spoke. "Hey man," Sam greeted him cheerily, causing the mohawked boy to jump out of his skin and the textbook that had previously been been in his arms to go crashing to the floor. "What's wrong with you?" the blond boy asked suspiciously. "You look like you just got caught with your hands down your pants."

Puck blushed and bowed his head, hoping against hope that he hadn't been caught out by Sam Evans, of all people. If he couldn't hide his shame from a guy who had roughly the same IQ as a well trained golden retriever, he didn't stand a chance in front of Rachel or Santana. "Nothing," he answered a little too defensively. "You shouldn't sneak up on people like that."

Sam's trademark grin spread across his features. "Oh, I see," he said knowingly. "So... Who is she? Must be pretty damn hot if she's got you blushing and dropping textbooks on the floor."

Puck quickly decided that feigning both ignorance and innocence would be his best option. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Unfortunately Sam saw straight through him. "Oh please, I've been at this school six months now and I haven't seen you spill the ball _once_. Plus, guys only say shit like _'you shouldn't sneak up on people'_ or_ 'don't you know how to knock?'_ when they're jerking off. So I'll ask again... Who is she?"

Puck sighed in resignation. "I've been getting these really vivid dreams lately," he confessed, wondering whether he should continue and immediately sensing that he could trust Sam with his secret. "But every time I'm about to get to... _the good stuff_, I wake up."

"That sucks man. But at least you don't have to wash your sheets every morning," he said optimistically. "So Lauren still won't let you get past first?"

Puck shook his head. "The dreams aren't about _Zizes_. At first I thought they were just guilt dreams. Like my mind's way of punishing me for making out with my best friend's girl... or something. But now -"

Sam's eyes widened comically as he caught on to what Puck was saying. "Wait! Your dreams are about Rachel?" Puck nodded the affirmative, another light blush creeping onto his cheeks. "Well, _holy shit_, man. She good?"

At this, Puck narrowed his eyes and punched his friend in the arm, eliciting a low yelp. "I _don't know_, do I? You knucklehead."

Sam laughed at Puck's misfortune as he rubbed his now aching arm. "Well, she's sneaky hot, I'll give you that."

"Hell yeah, she is. And the dreams have only gotten more vivid since that night at the swimming pool. I can't stop thinking about her stupid cotton panties and that sexy little birthmark she has on her shoulder," Puck blurted out before he could realise how pathetic he sounded.

Just then, the bell rang and Puck disappeared down the corridor towards his first class. Sam stood next to Puck's locker for a little while longer, thinking about the information his friend had unwittingly revealed. To say that he was worried would have been the understatement of the century. Glee club was already a house divided; yet, unbeknownst to everybody else, Team Rachel versus Team Mercedes was the least of their worries. If word of Puck's sordid little fantasies about Rachel ever got out, all hell would break loose and New Directions would surely be launched into a civil war.

* * *

Meanwhile, Rachel sat in the bathroom stall, freaking out about what had happened the night previous. In all her sixteen years on earth, never had she been so embarrassed.

_She was bored. Like really, really bored. She'd finished all her homework, had dinner with her dads and uploaded another video to her MySpace already, and it wasn't even eight o'clock yet. That meant she had at least another hour before she needed to start her evening beauty regime. When she'd been dating Finn, she used this time between eight and nine o'clock to call him and talk about her evening, or their plans for the weekend, or any inane topic. Sometimes he'd even pop over to her house for a little bit, just to kiss her goodnight. Lately, however, this time had been left completely free for her to do whatever she wanted. Occasionally she'd waste away the hour watching _Funny Girl_ before falling asleep in front of the TV. Most evenings, she'd just lay on her bed and think about stuff._

_Ever since her conversation with Finn in her car, she'd found herself thinking less and less. She was grateful that her heart was healing and that her conscience was now clear. Yet part of her was resentful that Finn had left her with nothing to do and nothing more to ponder over. After half an hour spent seeing how long she could hold her breath for, singing The Star-Spangled Banner backwards, and reorganising her closet, Rachel decided to just lay still on her bed and let her mind wander. Usually it would drift to Broadway or the National Show Choir Championship._

_But tonight, for whatever reason, it went straight to Noah and the one-on-one jam session that they had planned for the following evening. Even though they were supposed to be opponents for the week, Rachel found herself wanting to spend all of her free time with him. Noah had really been there for her after she'd broken up with Finn and it felt nice knowing that someone was looking out for her. It was kind of like having an older brother... A really hot older brother. With broad shoulders and toned abs. Who looked really cute when his mohawk got wet and flopped to the side._

_Rachel could feel her thoughts heading into uncharted territory, but she couldn't bring herself to stop them. Before long, she was spread out on her back on top of her sheets with her little tartan skirt bunched up around her waist. She peeled away her already damp panties and tossed them to the side of her bed. Rachel conjured the image of Noah in nothing but his tight, white boxers as she spread her legs and traced her fingers up her bare thigh, her free hand slipping under her blouse to tease her already hardening nipples through the thin lace of her bra. She trailed her pointer finger experimentally between her slick folds, causing her to hum with desire. Heat suffused through Rachel's body and she was consumed with the overwhelming need for _more_. She ran her finger over the sensitive flesh repeatedly, occasionally applying some additional pressure as she reached her most sensitive spot. The sensations Rachel was experiencing were completely new to her and she couldn't believe she'd managed to get herself so riled up over the mere thought of Noah Puckerman. Even as she boldly started thrusting her fingers inside herself, she couldn't stop herself from thinking about how guilty she would feel about this later. Rachel Berry was a lady. She didn't debase herself by indulging her most primitive desires. __Sure, she'd imagined what it would be like to have Finn's hands on her like this when they were dating... but he was her boyfriend and it wasn't as if she'd ever taken things into her own hands. And yet, there she was, masturbating so furiously she could feel something she didn't quite understand building inside of her. __She bit down on her bottom lip to stop herself from moaning out loud, not wanting her dads to be alerted to what was going on in their sweet, virginal daughter's bedroom._

_Unfortunately she was too lost in the orgasm that was threatening to tear through her to notice that her door had already swung open. "Rachel, I have the most exciting news," her best friend babbled excitedly as he walked into her room. "I, Kurt Hum- AAAAAAH!" Kurt broke off with a loud scream as his eyes landed on Rachel's very exposed womanhood, before he scrunched his eyes shut and brought his hands to cover his flushed face. "Oh good God. Cover yourself, woman!" he wailed in mortification. Rachel jumped up to her feet just in time to pull her skirt down before her dads came in to ask what was wrong. Luckily Kurt immediately came up with the excuse that he'd stubbed his toe on the door frame and her dads seemed to buy it. She shot him a grateful smile just as her dads turned to walk out of the door._

Kurt had promised her that he wouldn't tell anyone what he'd seen - after all, it was an image he just wanted to forget - and they'd managed to get past the awkwardness enough for him to tell her that he had his first ever boyfriend. She was truly happy for Kurt and Blaine; yet the green eyed monster in her had to rear its ugly head. It was hard not to compare her crappy love life with Kurt's when the only thing she apparently had for company anymore was her right hand. She was starting to understand what it was like to be a teenage boy.

Eventually she managed to pull herself together sufficiently to leave the girls' bathroom and head to class. It wasn't like anybody in school knew what had happened the night before anyway. She just hoped she wouldn't run into Noah on her way.

Fate was a cruel fiend though and, sure enough, just as Rachel stepped out into the corridor, the one person she didn't want to see was right in front of her. "Uh, hi Noah," she muttered, eyes widening in surprise.

So preoccupied with her own embarrassment, Rachel failed to notice just how uncomfortable Puck was in her presence. "Erm, you look different. Did you do something with your hair?" he asked nervously.

"No!" she blurted out quickly, knowing exactly what was _different_ about her. "I bought a new moisturiser. It has aloe and jasmine in. Apparently it's supposed to make your skin soft. I mean... softer than other moisturisers."

Rachel was babbling even more than usually, almost like she was trying to hide something, but Puck decided not to question her. "Uh, okay. Look, I'm sorry but I can't hang around. I have History."

Rachel quirked her eyebrow. "Then why are you carrying your Calculus textbook?"

"Well, it's History of Calculus," he lied, not realising until after he'd said it how stupid that sounded. Rachel had a straight A student and she even taught herself Physics. If there was a class called History of Calculus, she would've known about it.

She chuckled lightly at his terrible excuse, although she was actually pretty interested in why he was lying to her. "Oh, is that so?" she teased. "I suppose I should let you get to this 'History of Calculus' class then."

"Uh, yeah. Bye," he spluttered before dodging around her and making a beeline for the boys' bathroom just down the hall. She stared at him suspiciously over her shoulder as he disappeared, completely unaware of the effect she had on him or what he was going to do in that bathroom.

* * *

Puck had managed to successfully avoid Rachel for the entire day and, since he was already late for glee rehearsal, he headed straight for the auditorium to join Mercedes and the rest of his team. His feisty team leader was already yelling at him before he'd made it out onto the stage. "Puckerman, you're late! Get into position! We have two more rehearsals before we present to Mr Schue, Miss Pillsbury and the other team. And, much as I respect her talent, I'll be damned if I lose to Rachel Berry."

"Alright, boss. No need to get your panties in a bunch. I'm here now, aren't I?" Puck walked to the centre of the stage, taking his place behind Artie and to Finn's left. "I'm sure we're going to have to go through this at least five more times before Huddy here can master the grapevine anyway." Puck and Finn had been trading barbs all week and the rest of the team were starting to grow tired of it. Even Santana, whose favourite pastime was insulting people, had told them to shut up a couple of times.

Finn was about to retaliate with a snide remark of his own but decided not to when Mercedes fixed him with a warning glare. "Let's just do this, shall we?" she suggested. The group went straight into their fully choreographed rendition of _The Way You Make Me Feel _a few times to make sure that everyone knew the steps before allowing everyone to take a short break.

"So, Brittany told me about last Friday night," Artie said as he rolled towards Puck. "Who knew Rachel Berry could be so much fun, right?"

"Yeah, I know. I've been trying to get her out of those animal sweaters for the last year and a half. Turns out all it takes is a free meal and she's willing to lose a lot more than that," was his tongue-in-cheek response. Puck hadn't realised that his former best friend was in earshot to hear the lewd remark; nor did he notice the downcast expression on Finn's face as they returned to their positions to continue practising.

Finn kept replaying Puck's comment in his mind. He knew it wasn't really any of his business anymore. Rachel had made it perfectly clear that she wanted him to stay out of her personal life and Finn had agreed that he would do just that. Still, hearing him talk about Rachel in that way made him feel all sorts of uneasy. "_All it takes is a free meal and she's willing to lose a lot more than that._" Maybe he hadn't heard Puck correctly. Or maybe he was missing something. After all, he'd dated Rachel for over six months and barely rounded second; he highly doubted she'd trade in her v-card for the all you can eat pasta special at Breadstix. Resolving not to get involved, Finn tried to focus on the dance routine. He still couldn't stop his mind from wandering to thoughts of Rachel... and Puck... and Rachel and Puck.

After rehearsal, both groups convened in the auditorium to debrief with Mr Schuester before he dismissed them and headed back towards his office. Everyone else was about to leave when Santana stopped them. "Alright glee freaks, I have an announcement." They all looked around at one another in confusion as the Latina moved to stand in front of them. "As you all know, Regionals is a week on Saturday. So we're having a pre-victory party at mine on Saturday."

Almost every one of the glee kids jumped up from their seats and started whooping and cheering. Rachel was the only person who didn't seem quite so enthusiastic. "But we haven't even won yet," she protested.

"So? We're not leaving without that trophy this year, even if I have to sleep with Rod Remmington myself."

It was nice to see Santana so determined to win, even if Rachel didn't approve of her methods. Still, Rachel couldn't stop the familiar pang of dejection she always felt when she heard about a party she wasn't invited to. "Oh. Well, you guys have fun," she murmured as she stood up and started to walk away.

"Hold up, Berry." Hearing the sternness in her voice, Rachel stopped walking and immediately turned around wondering what she could possibly want. "I might not be very nice to you and, quite frankly, you annoy the crap out of me ninety-five percent of the time..." Rachel started to frown as Santana launched into one of her verbal assaults. "_But_, in a weird kind of way, we're all sort of like a family. I mean... like a really fucking dysfunctional family that's really incestuous." She paused, uncomfortable showing her sentimental side. "The point is, you're not only invited; attendance is _mandatory_. Same goes for all of you losers," Santana added as she looked around the room, fixing all of them with a stern look. "It's BYOB and you're all welcome to stay at mine."

At that, everyone started talking excitedly about the weekend and how awesome it was going to be _when_ they won Regionals. Feeling touched by Santana's speech and grateful for her first ever invite to a house party, Rachel shot her a sweet smile. However, her attention was soon sidetracked when she noticed Puck, who was talking animatedly to Sam an Mike about stealing some kegs from a brewery downtown. When he noticed her looking, she quickly averted her gaze and tried to act natural. It was hard to do when all she could think about was the party. The party Puck was going to be at... with alcohol... and probably games like 'spin the bottle'. Rachel could hardly wait.

* * *

**Uh oh! Looks like Puck and Finn might be getting their wires crossed. Next chapter we have the diva-off and Santana's house party. I can assure you it's going to be the most drama-filled chapter so far!**

**P.S. The Way You Make Me Feel is a Michael Jackson song. You should definitely check it out if you don't know it already.**

**I hope you don't mind my heavy use of Finn in this story. It's still very much going to be a Puckleberry/Evanberry/Suck story, so there's no need to worry about this turning into a Finchel fic. I just think it's good to have a little bit of conflict (also, I have a soft spot in my heart for Finn). In case you're wondering, I'm expecting this fic to be approximately 20 chapters in total, give or take a few.**


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